two awesome glands

why Party Down is your new favorite show that just got cancelled

2010-06-30T16:12:00.000-07:00

we should've put it on a life machine.

NOTE: i apologize for the girth of the videos. you can watch them for realsies by just clicking on them twice and going straight to YouTube. i tried to fix it but realized i have no idea how, and am far too lazy to go back and make them all into links or something.

so, for those of you who have so far failed at life by not watching Party Down, this is for you. you're lucky that i can't blame you for its cancellation (damn you Adam Scott and your burgeoning success! *shakes fist*), and will instead simply implore you to check it out. give it a shot. because it is without a doubt one of the funniest fucking shows i've ever seen. and it is so easy to watch on netflix instant, or ninjavideo.net, or wherever. just do it.

in case my berating your life choices wasn't motivation enough, here are some awesome clips from season 2. you can also read my previous post about season 1 here. seriously, it blows my mind how funny this show is. and, cliche though it may sound, it's funny 'cause it's true. it's so much more realistic to have bitter, fucked-up people working at a shitty job and just trying to get through their day be shown cursing, having sex, getting high, stealing shots, and muddling around their lives just like the rest of us. i'll miss the reality of Party Down, which was so much more real than anything they show on MTV.

now for clips!

oh, new old Ron.

there is no way to go wrong when you have Steve Guttenberg and Christopher Mintz-Plasse in the same scene.

"that's the gay guy from Mean Girls!" i told my friend (and fellow PD afficionado). he did not seem to care, but maybe you will. he shows up Roman hardcore! and then later there's a semen incident that i won't ruin for you.

"you might end up with fish smell. my mouth is dry!"

just like in Arrested Development, they mix enough physical comedy in with the smart (and dirty) stuff.

this is why Party Down is awesome. it makes me laugh for half-an-hour, straight.

the last one will have to be presented here, in link form, because they disabled embedding. but listen closely to New New Ron, for he is pretty fucking wise.

in summation: i'm in mourning. i'll be glad to see Adam Scott on Parks & Recreation, and of course Glee wouldn't be Glee without Jane Lynch...but god, i'm really going to miss Party Down. i have to say, though...they ended it really well. and if you want to know how, you'll just have to go watch for yourself...just try not to hurt yourself laughing.

oh, how the years fly by.

2010-06-30T14:59:00.000-07:00

two days, two events, two ex Dawson's Creek actresses looking insane on the red carpet.

seriously, Ms. Jacobs, you are never going to seduce any more 15-year-old boys in that. and as for you, Eve Whitman (the most obvious fake name ever)....stick to velour wraps and belly chains and orange bikinis that make teenage virgins crash their dad's boat. 'cause this...is doing nothing for you. well, okay...maybe it'll come in handy when you have to convince the girls at the strip club to put on a free show for underage creepers. but that's a big maybe.

but seriously: WTF is Eve Whitman doing at the BET Awards? can someone please tell me?

i'm fat and sexy and i do what i want

2010-06-14T13:13:00.000-07:00

so this past weekend was my friends' wedding, and it was totally incredible and surreal and i feel so lucky to have been a part of it. but that's not really what i want to talk about.

since yesterday morning, when i woke up after three hours of sleep and said goodbye and drove home, i've had a haunting feeling that i did something totally embarrassing. and i wasn't so drunk that i've forgotten what happened, even.

i've been going over it in my mind. one of the groomsmen was flirting with me all night, told my friend he thought i looked hot, danced with me, we shotgunned in a hot tub & he kissed me, and then responded with nothing but an infuriating smile when i told him that we could fuck, drama-free, if he wanted. his friends then told me that he was a total cock-tease, so i drank more champagne and somehow ended up traipsing around the hotel in my pajama shorts and a shirt without a bra on. kept ending up with the guy and his attitude never really changed and neither did mine. i gave up, realized my hangups are still tied up with another guy with an infuriating smile, and went to bed.

i regret none of these things. but the lack of a bra, i realized, was what was haunting me. the idea that people, and someone that i wanted to sleep with at that, had seen me without my bra was somehow terrible. and then i started beating myself up for being so persistent & forward, which i always am and somehow it never gets me what i want.

and then i realized, literally two seconds before i knew i had to write this post, that i felt this way because i'm fat. i thought that if i were a skinny girl with smaller boobs, i wouldn't have to worry about people seeing me without a bra and thinking my breasts were saggy or weird-looking or whatever. and i wouldn't have to worry that a man wasn't attracted to me despite tons of evidence to the contrary, simply because he has his own weird hangups and might not want to, or be able to, fuck me at a particular point in time. if i was skinny, i have always told myself, i could take it for granted that a man would want me.

but you know what? FUCK THAT NOISE. i can do what i want, and go after what i want, and if a man is dumb enough to not realize how awesome i am, i don't need them anyhow. i know that i'm sexy, even with my belly and my huge boobs and my arm fat and whatever. i don't care if people know what my thighs look like. and i really want to live up to all the fat-positive self-confidence that i put out into the world.

"are you scared of me?" i remember asking him at one point, and out came the smokescreen smile again. of course he was scared of me, but as a strong, older, enigma of a man, he couldn't explain how or why. they are all scared of me, in one way or another, because i speak my mind and don't play games and can have sex without falling in love. because i love myself and know myself and think other people should too, and so i end up regaling them with uncomfortable truths about myself, and then about themselves, and especially if i'm drunk or high it's a flow that i can't turn off unless somebody stops me. but for some strange reason, nobody ever does - possibly because they would have to acknowledge the truth of their own discomfort.

reaffirming my own sexiness is not the only good that came out of this mini shame spiral - i now feel like i've found a way to deal with the hangups that have been keeping me back and soon i can move, and go out into the world, and hopefully find someone who's really right for me. and who will love to look at me without a bra on.

still on Team Lost (and crazy) after all these years

2010-05-24T11:57:00.000-07:00

thanks to Vincent.....i am resigned to the ending of Lost. thinking back on it now it's making more sense (until i think about it more and then it doesn't, but that's how things with Lost have always been), and all of those heartwarming reunions were pretty much everything i ask for from my television. maybe the writers could've gone a less religious-y route, but at least they were inclusive and whatnot. and it became clear that ultimately, the mysteries were just a backdrop to the stories of the characters - and the way their connections with each other provide salvation. and i'm cool with that.

but seriously, they had me once Vincent returned in the last shot. way to take advantage of my weakness for dogs, dudes.

i'll miss you, Hugo. you can throw your knife into my canteen any day. (it had to be Hugo. who do you want running your magical island - a madman with a god complex, or a chill, friendly, adaptable Buddha-figure? i'll take the latter, please.)

i could go on, but can't at the moment. it's too soon to really process, i think. all i really know for sure is i will be dropping some cash money on the DVDs in December, 'cause i'm sure the extras and the answers will be totally worth it.

annnnnd...now i have to find something new to watch.

that could've been me...in another life

2010-04-15T21:38:00.000-07:00

i've been living in alternate realities a lot lately. after spending a week sick with a god-awful cold and watching a few seasons worth of Doctor Who, I started thinking about the way that Rose's alternate reality relates to the shifted reality in Lost. and then I started thinking about Fringe, which has been dealing in parallel universes since the end of last season...and i decided it was time for a post.

Let's start with Lost, since we know the least about it. After last season when the Island Idiot decided he needed to fix everygoddamnthing by detonating a nuclear bomb, we started seeing the stories of the losties in an alternate reality, parallel universe, whathave you. except things were different, and the losties seemed to have glimpses or memories of who they are or were in the original reality. thanks to the theories over at TLo, i'm now pretty convinced that the alternate reality is what will happen if Demon Locke leaves the island. remember smug, happy, Locke at the beginning of the season? all, "I don't want no magic doctor to fix my back 'cause I'm happy with who I am". bullshit. that's not Locke, Locke wanted out of that goddamn chair. that's a fucking Demon. anywhoozle, it'd be nice if they could find a way to reconcile the two - keep DeLocke from leaving the Island while keeping some of the good parts from reality part II - but i don't think there's any way that Jack's going to keep his son and Sun and Jin get to keep Ji Yeon. i don't think that Charlie and Libby and Wykowski or anybody else is going to come back from the dead. but maybe Hugo can keep his good luck, and Sawyer can keep his good heart, and Ben can cling to a dangling shred of humanity. whatever happens, a lot of people are going to die.

Moving on to Fringe - you should be watching Fringe. well, if you're into sci-fi and/or Joshua Jackson you should be watching Fringe. in Fringeland they call them parallel universes; there's two of everything, only one side is slightly different from the other. Walter Bishop developed a way to cross over from one side to another, a technique that crazy scientist terrorists used to do a number of horrific things, like bring over half a building from the other universe into ours. the two versions of each person melded together, killing them because all of a sudden there were two people in one body. crazy shit. here we get the ominous feeling that no good can come of breaking the barrier between two worlds, especially for personal gain. tsk, tsk, Walter.

Doctor Who's alternate universe parallel reality whathaveyou, is not a very fun place. the Doctor is just so likely to end up in a time and place where something terrible and otherworldly is going on (oh, yes, wouldn't it be lovely to see Elvis Presley in New York in 1955? oops, we're in 1855 and it's Scotland and werewolves are after Queen Victoria!) that even when the TARDIS malfunctions and spits them out of the time vortex and into an alternate reality where Mickey's name is Ricky and Rose is a dog, there is of course something evil afoot. they foil the Cybermen, and after Ricky dies Mickey decides to stay to be with his Grandmama and fix her rug and keep fighting Cybermen at the Taj Mahal and whatnot. And him staying is a big deal, because the Doctor tells him he can never come back because it will shatter something space/time idon'tknow.

but then he comes back! he shows up in the episode with the orb and the 4 imagining Daleks where Rose announces "This is about how i died" or some such nonsense (she doesn't die). in this episode the Daleks' orb ship crashed through the hole that the Doctor had made before, and then the Cybermen came through, and then Mickey and Rose's not-dead alternate dad and others of a rebellious nature came through to fight them. and although everything turned out semi-alright in the end, there was still tons of heartbreak and death and last minute acts of grandiose danger. SEE? you should not create holes or rifts or cracks of any kind in the space/time thingy. it only leads to bad things.

the constant thread that i find through all of these, shall we say, alternatives, is that everything is the same, but different. Jack is still a surgeon, Jin still loves Sun, Hurley's still a lottery winner, etc., etc. there is another Walter who is a brilliant scientist. there is another lake house and another coin and World Trade Towers that were never destroyed (that shit didn't fall, somebody blew them up. i hate the constant use of passive voice in reference to 9/11. /endrant) and there's another Rose's dad to replace the one who died, which works perfectly for him when his (awful) version of Jackie becomes a Cyberman. and i liked that Rose is alternaJackie's dog, because even if they have no children in this reality, at least there is a Rose that they love.

it's a pretty interesting concept, especially in that it is not one that i find at all plausible outside of my TV. but what if there was another you out there, what do you think they'd be doing? would you love and fear the same people and things? it's curious to think what the differences might be. in other words, how am i not myself?

but still! don't go poking your nose through the space/time continuum where it doesn't belong. you'll only create a rift/door/black hole/swirling chasm of void/let the smoke monster out and ruin it for the rest of us.

free associations

2010-04-12T20:20:00.000-07:00

so, i have a lot of weird free associations. some of them are more like things that i fixated on as a child, but others are just like, really random shit that makes me think of really random shit. i have so many of these that i don't really talk about them much - if something comes up, i'll think about it, and then imagine the looks of the people i'm talking to if i steer the conversation in that fucking direction. i know those looks, believe me.

but this happens to me enough that i'm considering starting a separate blog just to catalogue them. for entertainment value, yes, but also to see if any of this shit rattling around in my head is of any use, story-wise. reality-wise. i'm a little afraid that upon showing the world the inside of my brain any valuable thoughts will crumble and wither and become utterly useless, but...oh well. they had my favorite strain at the store today and my mind is racing.

racing with what, you ask?

with THIS.

i didn't embed the video because (1) you should listen to the song without sound before you watch the video and (2) you should watch the video in its full glory because holy hell that shit is insane! plastic doll fairies with Union Jack wings and a field full of plastic gumball eggs and a gay tween love story that ends with the nerdy one trapped in a rubix cube??? yo, go watch it, but you must watch it second because you will not be listening to the lyrics while you're watching the craziest video ever.

but then forget about the video, because it has nothing to do with what i'm talking about. sorry! but i had never seen it until five minutes ago when i realized i probably should. my real association with the Spice Girls' "Viva Forever" is that is has always and will forever make me think of Titanic. here are the reasons why this makes sense:

1. i experienced both at around the same time. i may have even listened to the song for the first time after coming back from one of seven Titanic viewings.

2. the chorus of Viva Forever basically sums up Rose's entire plot line.

that's it. those are the only good reasons i can come up with. the reasons why this makes me a nutjob are manifold, yet they all come back to the same thing:

- it's a Spanish(ish) song! the guitar intro gives it away. but the guitar intro also made me cry because i was thinking about Jack!

- seriously, was it the mangled strains of Ha-sta Manyana that did it? i do not know.

- i remember the day i realized that this song did not remind me of Titanic because it had fiddle or a harp or flutes or some shit in it. i was at least 20 years old.

- when i listen to this song now, i see two things, superimposed on each other like a double exposure: Antonio Banderas with a mandolin, greasy and romantically balladeering, and myself, age twelve, listening to Viva Forever while staring at my Leo-laden walls.

- seriously, that song is SO Spanish, all i can hear are the Spanish guitars. and the sound of my past, shedding a tear for a fictional character (albeit a fucking gorgeous one, come on now).

i don't know, maybe this particular association isn't that strange, but simply naive. well, that's only the beginning.

NEWSFLASH: Social Anxiety + Reality TV = Bad Idea x Meltdown

2010-03-25T21:56:00.000-07:00

i know myself and my anxieties well enough to realize this, but it astounds me the amount of people who go on tv and complain about having to live with umpteen crazy bitches and whine about how they didn't think it would be like this. like, the insanity of having to deal with other strangers' insanity has been the driving force behind reality tv since Survivor and Big Brother. bitch don't tell me you haven't watched vh1 in the past five years.

in other news, Andre Leon Talley has crazy gums. also, is crazy. also, uses the word patently gauche to describe girls' legs while he himself is the definition of patently gauche.

Alexander Beetle

2010-03-09T09:07:00.000-08:00

anyone who knows me at all knows that i hate spiders like Barney hates the Fiero. which is why i surprised even myself when, a few months ago, i discovered a tiny spider building a web between my lamp and the windowsill it rests on...and i let the spider be. it was so small, i reasoned, that it didn't scare me and it did a good job of eating the few mosquitoes that wandered in.

cut to now. since the temperatures dropped, we've been having a mild ant problem, and the windowsill is the only place in my room where they appear (since they come in through the window). the worst was when i once took out my mouthguard and left it all saliva-y on the sill...when i came back in an hour it was swarming. eewugh. anyhow, there were gross ants.

after a weekend of housesitting for my parents, i came back armed with some liquid ant baits. i set one on the sill and watched as a few ants meandered in and started eating the liquid. i am still unclear as to how the ant bait works (are they supposed to drown trying to eat? does it poison them?), but when i came back to check on it in a little while, the thing was full of ants, live ants, all feasting on the bait. an hour later, they were almost all gone. where did they go? i wondered. and will i have to find and clean up poisoned ant carcasses now? seriously, i was WTFing for a while because i couldn't figure out where all these goddamn ants went and i really didn't want it to be my pillow or anything.

the next day, i turned on my bedside lamp. there was my tiny spider, abdomen fat and swollen, surrounded by a web filled with dead, dying, or soon-to-be eaten ants. i am so glad i didn't kill this spider! i guess the circle of life really does work pretty well. that's not to say that i won't kill other spiders in the future, but this one i have named Alexander Beetle (after this entirely unrelated poem), and he's going to stick around for a while.

this is what i have to say about the oscars:

2010-03-08T18:26:00.000-08:00

Dorothy Allison describes Shannon Pearl in Bastard Out Of Carolina as something like (paraphrasing) a cocktail onion speared on a toothpick, with a halo of thin white hair. this is what Shannon Pearl would have looked like in 40 years, had she not been exploded by the amazing vacuum physics of lighter fluid cans.

honestly, that's all i've got. didn't see any of the nominated movies except for Up and Julie & Julia, and i'm too tired to get into the travesty of Meryl losing to Sandra Goddamn Bullock. but yay Up!

(also, i know that this is the first post in forever. but who am i kidding, there are like, maybe four people who read this and kate and i have been pretty fucking busy. there are things to come, though, i promise.)

stealing, mashing, and the sexless inkeeper

2009-10-14T08:48:00.000-07:00

since Katherine hasn't posted her Glee recap, i'll say a little something about it here...but first we have other business to attend to.

1. Project Runway wedding dress challenge.

now, i don't read comments on blogs very often - i barely have time to read my like, three blogs already - and so i didn't delve into the morass over at TLo (Project Rungay) to see if anyone over there realized what i did - that the wedding dress challenge was stolen directly from Project Runway Canada.

PR Canada has always been PR's sad cousin. it's pretty low-budg, and it's set in either Montreal or Toronto, i don't remember. maybe Ottowa? they're all the same to me. anyway, regardless of this, it is still reliably entertaining. there's everything we love about Project Runway...plus IMAN! if Tim Gunn were on the show, it would be pretty perfect, because i hate their lame Canadian mentor, but Iman makes up for it by being awesome, super knowledgeable (as opposed to Heidi confusing rabbit ears and cinnamon buns, for example), and by sharing anecdotes about David Bowie. so - PR Canada is a sad cousin, but not as sad as ANTM when compared with Britain's Next Top Model, where the contestants win actual prizes each week and there's not the giant narcissistic Tyraphant in the room.

but last week, on American PR, they 100% ripped off a challenge from the most recent season of PR Canada. i couldn't really believe it. not that it wasn't a good challenge (reimagine the wedding dress of a divorcee), or that i have a problem with them recycling challenges from previous seasons (anything to break the boredom of lame LA challenges), but there was no credit given to PR Canada. not on the show, not on TLo or Jezebel. was i the only one who missed Project Runway enough when it was in limbo to track down PR Canada online (it wasn't that hard.)? i guess so.

anyhow, here it is: fuck the new Real World producers and their stupid decisions to keep Logan around and to steal challenges without giving credit. this could have been a great opportunity to maybe have Sunny, the designer whose transformed wedding dress is pictured above, as a judge...to tie the two shows together. but no. where's the innovation, guys? i should have Michael rip you a new one.

2. Glee mashups.

awesome! this show is demented. Jane Lynch's character is incredible, and now that she's co-running glee club, things are gonna get zoppity. oh, and can we all agree that Mr. Shu's wife should die in an awful and painful way before the season is up? she is the worst, and no one would be sad if she died. no one. that's all i've really got to say, except that now that i've really got a taste, i want more Artie the wheelchair kid! his voice is amazing - i loved his performance on It's My Life/Confessions (Bon Jovi? i say very yes), and it's really great to hear someone besides Finn soloing. that's all for now, cause there's more Glee tonight, and hopefully Kate can find the time to do an actual recap soon.

3. The Sexless Inkeeper...

may be the best episode title ever. "it's a poem, Barney." also, hooray for keeping Ted where he belongs - in the background, sexlessly tending the inn.

ok, i'm officially going to be referring to Tyra Banks as the Tyraphant from now on. it's like tyrant and elephant rolled into one, which is just SO Tyra(phant).

Glee Recap: The Series So Far

2009-10-05T12:01:00.000-07:00

Just the facts:
Glee is an hour long television show on Fox. Its pilot episode aired after the season finale of American Idol last spring in an attempt to garner an audience. Fox picked up the show for a full season only after Glee began gaining momentum over the summer with internet buzz and two episodes had aired, retaining more than half of the 9.6 million viewers who tuned in after American Idol. Here's why:

1. It's High School Musical. But it's not. (But it still sort of is.)
The show's star characters are a committed drama/choir geek and a handsome sports star that have a secret attraction to each other. But she's the type-A, fame chasing daughter of two gay fathers who stands up to the Celibacy Club and he's a football player who thinks of a traumatic car crash with a mail man to prevent ejaculation when canoodling with his virginal cheerleader girlfriend. The supporting student cast is a veritable after-school special on diversity, from a stuttering Asian girl to a kid in a wheelchair. But the football best friend runs a pool cleaning business where all that's being snaked are the soccer mom's pipes, and the fastidious gay fashionista gets dumpstered every morning. What's appealing are the cut and dry high school archetypes and the scrubbed cleanliness of the fake high school set dressing and costumes. What cuts through the saccharine wholesomeness of this world are the dirty jokes, the deadpan snappy dialogue, and the Ugly Betty-esque pop culture freshness. But, rounding third, we will inevitably return again to feel good-y revelations that ring more truthfully and hold more satisfaction than any Disneyed universe.

2. The show owes its tone, pacing, and structure to Election.
Acapella vocal underscoring, inner monologue voice overs, backstory montages, and cut-to close ups as punctuation. The pilot episode, while of course different in content and style, pulled so much from Election that I had to watch it again to make sure it wasn't wishful thinking.

3. The songs.
Kind of a no brainer, but everyone loves musicals now. But, like, only pop ones. Glee is doing a really good job of choosing songs that at the beginning were pure pop and sneaking in the Broadway. After this week's episode that featured Kristen Chenoweth and that little famous number from Cabaret, I think that we'll see more and more musical theater numbers thrown in there with the pop. Especially as Brian Lynch, the show's creator and producer, has said that he wants equal time for both pop and musicals. We'll see.

And I can't not mention the dancing. The lift at 0:21 in the following video I have seen with a Broadway choreographer and performed by two super talented dancers and it's incredibly difficult. These people know what they're doing.

4. To quote Tevye, "Tra-di-SHUUUUUN! Good guest stars!"
The American public has learned, through years of The Muppet Show, Friends, and 30 Rock, that good TV is made by good guest stars. While Glee has had to bust out the big guns early (see: Episode Five, guest starring Kristen Chenoweth of Broadway's Wicked and ABC's Pushing Daisies) they are still some formidable guns. In addition to Jane Lynch (as Coach Sue of the Cheerios, the high school's cheerleaders who have been written up in the sports pages of USA Today - twice!) we have Stephen Tobolowsky in a recurring guest spot as Sandy Ryerson the former Glee Club director, both of whom frequently guest on others programs. For the lay people we have Josh Groban as himself, Eve, and Sarah Drew (from Wonderfalls.) The crossovers include the aforementioned Kristen Chenoweth, whose awesome recurring role on The West Wing I would be remiss in not mentioning, and Victor Garber. The insiders include stars Matthew Morrison from the original casts of Hairspray playing the leader of the motley kids of Glee, Mr. Schuster, and Light in the Piazza (a Tony nominated performance), and Lea Michele from the sensation (and sensational) Spring Awakening as the super driven star singer Rachel Berry, as well as guest stars Debra Monk (as Mr. Schuster's mom) who was most recently seen in Curtains and John Lloyd Young (as the shop teacher who joins Mr. Schuster's boy band, Acafellas) who won a Tony for his performance as Frankie Valli in the hit Jersey Boys. In other words, Glee knows its audience. And, although Kristen Chenoweth's guest spot was grating at times, it was fun to see her get all drunk and trashy - even though she looked pristine while doing it.

Weaknesses:
Every show's got em. Glee's are the sometimes unbelievable script, the trying-too-hard dialogue, and Mr. Schuster's crazy for no reason wife. I think Glee can pull it out and make it stick, at least for a whole season and hopefully at least one more. I don't think this is a long-laster, but I think it will be tons of shameless fun while we can get it.

I'll give everyone a catchup blurb after tomorrow night's episode with my recap. I'm going to try to get them out as soon after the show airs as possible, but inevitably that will be Monday, my only day off from work. It'll be fun!

Watch Glee!

Lauren's Helpful Guide to TV Premiere Season, Part II

2009-09-27T13:55:00.000-07:00

here you go, guys - my rundown of the best shows that premiered this week, helpfully sorted into categories. what's a rundown, Jim? THIS is a rundown.

YOU MUST WATCH THIS SHOW:

How I Met Your Mother. i love this show. kate loves this show. both the title and the address of this blog are references to this show. and as time goes on, it just keeps getting better. i've found that many people are reluctant to start watching HIMYM, and that it's generally Ted's fault. Ted is the worst. it sucks that he's the main character of this show, because if there was more of a balance, like on Friends, then he wouldn't be stuck with the main storyline a lot of the time. HOWEVER, the writers and producers seem to have finally realized that people are tuning in for Barney and Robin and Marshall and Lily...and more Barney. we'll get back to Ted in a second, but i wanted to address the Barney and Robin relationship issue. they faced a similar problem as Chuck and Blair - how to deal with an unusual (read: womanizing man and strong, independent woman) couple finally getting together after seasons of will-they/won't-they. and i feel like the writers and actors handled the problem with great aplomb. it makes sense for the characters that neither Robin or Barney would want to define the relationship when they've finally found something that makes them happy. but it also makes sense that at some point they would need that definition in order to put an end to destructive assumptions. and that's where Lily comes in:

thankfully, Ted was relegated to a lame B-storyline and the rest of the cast was allowed to shine. and the thing is, Ted is actually much more enjoyable as a supporting character:

i have to say, although i love Barney's gremlin rule, Marshall's line is the best thing in that scene. anyway, you clearly must watch this show. and if you haven't seen it before, go back and watch it from the beginning - the continuous inside jokes are half the fun.

Bored To Death. this is a new show on HBO, starring Jason Schwarzman as a writer who is having trouble finishing his second novel. he picks up an old Raymond Chandler book and then decides to start moonlighting as an unlicensed private detective. here's the preview:

it's really quite excellent, as you (or at least I) might expect. Zach Galifianakis is a miracle, all comedy and pathos with a magnificent beard thrown in.

i believe this one is going to be around for a while, so start watching now so you don't have to catch up later.

Dollhouse. man, and i thought Fringe was getting good. Dollhouse is going places, quickly, and you'll want be around for the ride. Joss Whedon really is a master at what he does, and what he does is amazing television. i can't go into details without giving things away, but i will say that this show has unfolded with each episode and made me like it more and more. action, comedy, hotness, intrigue, moral quandaries...mostly-excellent acting...i want more. and i recently found a lost episode on Sidereel, an epilogue of sorts, that is really worth watching. i am truly hoping that Fox stays with this one, but since it's still stuck on Friday nights, i'm concerned.

You SHOULD Be Watching This Show, Simply To Improve Your Quality of Life:

Psych. yes, i know that Psych premiered a while ago, but i've been wanting to write about it and so it's going here. i love this show. i will readily admit that much of my love comes from Dule Hill, who plays Gus. he was often required to be serious on The West Wing, but here Hill can cut loose with singing, dancing, and general hilarity. i think he often steals the show, but i also like the main dude, Shawn, and the detectives, and Corbin Bernson. the premise is pretty hilarious (it's set in Santa Barbara! that alone makes me laugh.), and i enjoy lighthearted takes on crime procedurals (see Castle). mostly, this show is just a lot of fun, and you can drop in at any time without having to know much backstory. plus: they're like J.D. and Turk, but without all the bromance.

Castle. starring Nathan Fillion, Castle is about a popular detective novel-writer who follows around a NYPD homicide squad in order to get material for his new series, based on the female lead detective in the squad. this show is pretty fluffy, but Nathan Fillion is hot, sexy, funny, and hot. and the show is kind of interesting in a detective novel kind of way. the relationship between Castle and Detective Beckett (i love her name) could really go to some awesome, nasty, honest places. i'm avoiding discussing some of the other crime procedurals i watch (SVU, CSI, Law & Order, Numb3rs) because they don't focus so much on character development and thus are tedious and repetitive to recap. you're welcome. anyway, Castle is worth checking out, if only for the laughs and the man-candy.

Watch This Show If You Have Time, And Energy:

House. last season i got so sick of House that i almost didn't watch the premiere. but i did, and was pleasantly surprised. getting House out of the monotonous and predictable diagnostic format and into a mental institution was a good move. the episode was funny and multifaceted and showcased a whole new talented cast (woo, Famke Janssen!). i hoped House would stay a while...but no, just a two hour episode and it's back to the (medical) hospital. i'll keep watching for now, but the minute it bores me i'm off for more interesting pastures.

Heroes. This show has always been kind of a lame lame duck. mediocre acting and a similar "we're all connected" concept as Lost have brought this show down, but i think the ultimate problem, up to now, is that each season builds to one major disaster...and at the end of each season, disaster is averted. for the first season, that was ok (also, there was much more of happy awesome Hiro, who we all know is the best). second season was a major fail, and by last season i was bored and pissed about all the awesome heroes and powers they continued to introduce and then kill (Elle!). this season is...not looking much better. i hate the Sylar inside Parkman's head, and i hate that girl who plays Clare's friend. so again, we'll see how much longer this show will be worth my time.

Flash Forward. at first glance, this show looks pretty good. awesome cast (Joseph Fiennes, John

Cho, Penny from Lost) and an interesting premise: everybody in the world passes out at the same time and has a vision of six months in the future. the first episode was interesting and gripping, but at the end, i was left wondering about next season. similarly to Heroes, it is revealed in this episode that the day everybody "flashed forward" to was April 29th, 2010. sounds like a season finale! but once we pass that date, will the tension be gone? also, if they kill off John Cho, i'm definitely not watching. but for now i'll stick with it.

that's it for now - and i don't know if there's anything new coming up this week - damn you, NBC! give me my 30 Rock!

Lauren's Helpful Guide to TV Premiere Season, Part I

2009-09-20T10:15:00.000-07:00

Welcome to Lauren's Helpful Guide to TV Premiere Season. Each week for about the next month, i'll be combing through the TV premieres and helping you figure out what you should be watching. i know a lot of you don't have time to waste, so let me watch the shows for you and concisely break them down into three categories: must-watch, should-watch, and watch-if-you-have-time. some of the shows this week have been running for a little while already, but there's still time to catch up. feel free to add suggestions for next week's guide in the comments.

YOU MUST WATCH THIS SHOW:

Mad Men. it is astounding to me the number of people who still do not watch Mad Men. i was at a party and there was an adorable 20-year-old who looked like Paul Kinsey and i did not find a single person who got the reference. anyway, Mad Men is at the top of the MUST-WATCH list because it's like a miracle, on my screen, every week. this 3rd season just continues to improve on the aesthetically incredible, theme & plot-driven work that had already been established. as the characters evolve and grow in the world around them, the show gets deeper, funnier, and more empathic. if there is any show you should be watching, it is this one.

this clip is my favorite from season 3 so far...the singing and the competitiveness and the awkwardness of having to hang out with your "drug pusher"...all wonderful, but all eclipsed by the perfect, accurate, self-awareness of Peggy's ending statement:

The Office. this show is so consistent, constantly changing to expand the smaller players without losing the strength of the main characters (Michael, Pam, Jim, Dwight...Ryan?). the main reason why i have always preferred the US Office to the original (other than the original being excruciatingly uncomfortable to watch) is because of the supporting characters. Creed, Kevin, Phyllis, Stanley, Oscar, Toby, Angela, etc help give the show a little more complexity, and now that the show is in its sixth season (wow, that's kind of weird), The Office is less about five main characters and more about, well, the entire office and how the group interacts. i love how angry Kevin gets here:

Moral of the story: Keep watching! The Office is definitely still worth your time.

PS - Creed is amazing:
"if i can't scuba, then what has this all been about? what am i working towards?"

Glee. here's the thing - this show is as awesome as the hype. the cast is great (yay Jane Lynch!), the musical numbers are great, and it has heart, but the sharp wit keeps it from being too corny. however, it will be interesting to see where this show goes and if it can keep up its momentum. for now, however, it is MUST-WATCH.

you SHOULD be watching this show, simply to improve your quality of life:

Fringe. For those of you who don't know, Fringe was created by JJ Abrams, and his fingerprints are all over the first episode of the second season. he co-wrote this episode, so it's good to see that he's not just hands-off producing like it seems he did with Lost. Fringe owes a lot to The X-Files, and proper homage is paid to that show in this episode. i never watched The X-Files, but the overall concept of a department of the FBI being devoted to solving paranormal crimes seems similar. what is different is that there is less talk of aliens and more talk of alternate universes and parallel realities. last season was good, but it was a little slow to start up...unlike season 1 of Lost, where the lack of answers was balanced by revelations about the characters, Fringe created mystery after mystery with very few revelations about anything. however, this season provides both answers and character revelations while still building up the mystery. it's great. if you're new to Fringe, i would recommend going back and watching the last three episodes of season 1 if you don't have time to do the entire season. you wont be entirely lost, and season 2 will make much more sense. the cast of this show is great, especially the characters of Walter and Peter Bishop, played by John Noble (Denethor in LoTR) and Joshua Jackson (Pacey on Dawson's Creek). it's nice to have an intense, often gory scifi show that is also good for a laugh, and with Dollhouse also coming back for a second season, the nerd in me is feeling pretty satisfied.

Parks & Recreation. this show is another one that kind of got off to a slow, middling start. but don't give up on it yet, because the chemistry between the actors is getting much better as the show goes on. we all know about its similarities to The Office, and i think that the strength in this show is also embracing the minor characters. the comedy is strong here; the viewers just need to stick with it and let it develop. also, Chris Pratt is hilarious...and points for making me not hate Rashida Jones.

Community. this is a new show on NBC with Joel McHale, who basically everybody knows as the guy from The Soup. i have always thought that Mr. McHale was extra funny, and so i was excited to see more of him on screen. and guess what? Community is actually pretty good. it has Chevy Chase in a turtleneck! and John Oliver in a tiny car! i think there's a lot of places that this show can go; it's nice to see a sitcom with an actual premise, as opposed to a bad ripoff (Kath & Kim) or a one-note idea (Worst Week). i'll be sticking around to see some more funny. man, i love jokes about Shark Week.

if you have time, and are looking to clear your brain with fluff, watch this show:

Gossip Girl. the new season premiered this week, and as my friend Michaela said, "by the end of the episode, i still didn't really understand what was going on." i don't care about Dan and Vanessa's wealth issues, and i really don't care about Serena's daddy issues, which is what most of this episode was about. yay for Chuck and Blair, but i really think it's about time for Eric to stop being the fag to Jenny's hag and to get a decent storyline of his own. judgment? a good show to watch if the goal is to numb your brain, otherwise be prepared to be irritated, bored, and confused.

Project Runway. i love Prunway as much as the next person, but this season has been crazy boring. boring challenges, irritating judges decisions, and no Michael Kors since, like, the first episode! Kors is probably my least favorite judge, but being gone for so long means that he has no concept of how the designers are developing/their consistency, which will probably come back to infuriate me towards the end. the best part about this season has been so much Tim Gunn! but i weep for him and his skin cells.

America's Next Top Model. honestly, you probably shouldn't watch this show. this cycle, the "petite" cycle, is offensive to short people. Tyra's bordering-on-megalomaniacal narcissism has gotten even worse, and once they kicked off the "i used to be a crazy girl" crazy jesus girl, Bloody Eyeball is the most interesting contestant. and that's only because i'm wondering when she's going to depress her system too far with mood stabilizers and simply stop breathing. this show has gotten so out of control that this is all that i'm going to write about ANTM; if you want to read more about it (and see some awesome gifs), check out the blog FourFour.

so, that's it for this week. all of these shows (and their actual TV air times) can be found on Hulu and Sidereel. check back next week for rundowns of How I Met Your Mother, Heroes, House, Law & Order: SVU, Numb3rs, CSI, and Dollhouse.

why i need a Wingman

2009-09-20T09:43:00.000-07:00

so, last night my friend was throwing a party. it was a fancy cocktail party, which usually i'm all about, but i didn't make it. why? i had no wingman.

now, i don't really need a wingman for romantic or sexual purposes (although after watching the episode of Dawson's Creek where Jen basically explains to Joey how she feels for Pacey i realized that it would have been really helpful to have Kate around during the romantic implosion i just went through), i need to have someone at a party i know that i can consistently talk to. someone who will come outside with me to smoke; someone who will back me up when i argue against playing beer pong; someone with whom i can commiserate if the people and/or party is getting lame. of my usual wingmen, one just moved away and the other was busy with friends from out of town. my roommate had a girl coming over and the friend i was chilling with and watching the Creek doesn't really drink and doesn't know any of the people who were at the party. so...no luck there.

the real reason to not go to a party alone is because i don't like to drink and drive, especially if i'm going to cocktail party where i know there will be gin that i want to drink. but in addition to that if i don't have a wingman to help me deal with the random girls from high school that i wish i didn't have to see all the time and to help me mask my social anxiety, i'm not going to try and find a ride or anything. i'm going to do what i do and stay home and make cookie-brownies and watch the Creek with a friend and then drink a little wine and take a bath and go to bed before 1 am.

in the meantime, i'm missing Kate and wishing i had a wingman like Barney (look for the hair-shake, it's the best part) :

if you're interested in flight suiting-up and coming out to play "haaaaaaaave you met Lauren?", hit me up. i am clearly in need of a good wingman.

...and charge it, please!

2009-09-18T09:38:00.000-07:00

if anyone was wondering what extravagant gift they could get me, a night in the Eloise Suite is definitely it.

i mean, you can come too! we can eat eggs in egg cups and feed Skipperdee raisins and sklonk people in the kneecaps and lose our skate key. and travel up and down the elevators and hide in the ballroom light fixtures and make fun of debutantes and drink Nanny's pilsner and have an adventure in the bathtub and it will all be RAWTHER fabulous.

Dealbreaker: WoW

2009-08-28T11:43:00.001-07:00

Sorry, ladies and gents. This I believe: I cannot date a gamer.

This comment thread on Jezebel had me facepalming all over the place. While I understand that some people use gaming the way I use podcasts, TV, or movies, it is not a culture that I find appealing or accessible.

As a fantasy fan, I can enjoy your orcs, your mages, and your general badass swordplay. But when "fantasy" involves hours on end of gaming, plugged into your PS2 or PC, roleplaying... well, that's a dealbreaker my friends.

In my world, the only acceptable gaming console is the Wii, and only because the Wii fit ski jumping is hilarious when drunk.

enough already, you lucky bastards.

2009-08-08T12:16:00.000-07:00

ok, i get it. you've stood in line for hours and now you're finally in the audience at the taping of The Colbert Report. you're hella psyched, and when the title theme music starts, all of that psyched-up energy just comes pouring out. you whoop, you cheer, you clap until your hands feel like they might fall off. things are awesome, because there is Stephen Colbert, and he's about to be funny right in front of you and so you must continue physically expressing your excitement.

no matter that Mr. Colbert has now been telling you all to quiet down for 30 seconds, or that your loud, obnoxious cheering is eating into the precious little time he has to do his show. no, you must make sure that you can pick out your voice from the cacophony when you watch it later on the internet. asshole.

***

i'm serious, guys. this has gone on for long enough. i started noticing the excessive intro clapping on the Colbert Report a few months ago; i thought it was just a few over-excitable audiences and that it would fade quickly. not so. if anything, the clapping just goes on for longer, now that people have seen a precedent set. IT FUCKING SUCKS. it's gotten to the point where i try to skip the intro just to avoid a full minute and a half of obnoxious cheering and Colbert trying to get them to settle down.

i get that people are stoked and want to be recognized for being super stoked. but just because i want to go see the Daily Show and find a moment of silence to yell, "Jon, i wanna fuck you in the middle of the studio while Wyatt Cenac watches!" doesn't mean that i will. because, while an authentic sentiment, it is disrespectful and rude to the people watching at home, the people trying to make the funny happen, and to Jon Stewart's family.

so, if you happen to be lucky enough to go to a taping of the Report, don't rub it in the faces of those who must watch it on Hulu - and stop wasting my time.

conundrum!

2009-07-11T10:49:00.000-07:00

Now that I'm following Jason Segel on Twitter, this negates the possibility of casually meeting him and becoming best friends/lovers, right?

twitter.com/missustufnel

Does that mean these really are the best years of our lives?

2009-07-07T19:23:00.001-07:00

On the 4th of July, some friends and I played Trivial Pursuit Millennium and I come out of my two severe losses feeling pretty nostalgic for a time that I actually don't clearly remember - the mid to late 90's. See, I'm the oldest child and raised mostly on whole grains and PBS. No cable, no microwave, and no fashion sense or taste in music until high school. The fact that I loved Talking Heads and Elvis Costello in junior high was not actually cool back then, and I unabashedly rocked tapered jeans long into the bell bottom era. Suffice to say, I was not cool. If I had been cool, I would have been able to appreciate how freakin'awesome it must have been to be a smart girl in high school in the late 90's.

You've got riot grrl hitting its stride in Olympia and Portland. Sleater-Kinney, Bikini Kill, Le Tigre, ferocious girls who were sex- and body-positive, killing it on their guitars.

Lisa Simpson, OG smart-girl loner, when The Simpsons was still about something, regularly attacked the standards girls are held to.

Dawsons's Creek, where the girls dealt with real sexuality issues and wore brown lipstick stolen from the drug store and Jen Lindley was sexual without apologizing and the girls didn't wear bras under their spaghetti strap tank tops.

Daria, which I've only recently rediscovered, voicing the extreme misanthropy and disdain for the burgeoning consumer culture that resulted from the internet economic boom.

Even teen movies were allowed to glorify the atypical outspoken girl. (10 Things I Hate About You anyone? Get Over It?)

Today?
Lady Gaga, High School Musical, Gossip Girl, Hannah Montana, any show on reality TV... it's hard to find really outspoken girls in today's pop culture. I wish there was some way to get that riot grrl attitude back - I know bits and pieces of it had a huge influence on my high school life, and I wish it had had more. It makes me really sad to see the teen girls I work with at the theatre constantly talking about what things they own. I ask them critical questions about what they want to be and what they think about things and I can tell they haven't been asked those questions enough, so much that it's scary to them to even be asked.

I wish today's media would ask girls what they think more. Thankfully, whenever I get sad about modern girlhood, I turn to Amy Poehler, whose internet show "Smart Girls At The Party" is super freaking fabulous and features some girls I'd like to be friends with. Check it out if you know what's good for you!

Clicky!
Show it to a girl you know!

Twitter: Celebrities and Spambots

2009-07-05T09:59:00.000-07:00

The oddest thing about Twitter is how actually creepy it is to read random celebrities typos and conversations with each other. Also, everyone knows each other. Diablo Cody and Rob Corddry? Okay.

The most annoying thing about Twitter are the people who start following you. Friends, okay. It is easy to seem wittier than you actually are because you can spend minutes composing your 140 character response to your friends carefully composed off-the-cuff remarks. But the people who are following 345 people and have posted three times and their profile is a picture of a hot chick and a link for one of the "Google pays me" websites... they are not real people. And it is deceptive.

I am enjoying Twitter but I can feel the impending boredom. I am going to try to change up my following list to liven things up. Some people will be getting un-followed. (Rachel Sklar, I'm looking at you.)

i love America

2009-07-04T13:38:00.000-07:00

on this beautiful, sunny, perfect 4th of July in which Kate and i are reunited, i thought it appropriate to engage in some waxing on why America is so awesome.

i have been interested in American history since i was a kid, but, like many of my peers i became disillusioned with the concept of American patriotism/nationalistic attitude during the Bush2 years. W, and 9/11, and the Iraq war all began while i was in high school...i read Lies My Teacher Told Me and A People's History of the United States and got pretty irate about white men and the patriarchy and all that bullshit. however, underneath all of my anger was the knowledge that i loved the country i am from and was truly saddened by the apparent ignorance of many of my compatriots that was leading us down this terrible path.

but, you know? things have gotten better. still not so much for us gays, but we're getting there. surely a hell of a lot better in terms of America's standing in the eyes of the world. and it's not all thanks to Obama, although he has definitely been an agent of change. i believe that it's mostly due to the people of America standing up and redefining what it means to be an American on their own terms. the Bush administration created a false, narrow construction of what a "true patriot" is - and now it seems like that has been shattered. so, fuck yeah, i'm a patriot. i love my country like nobody's business. and today, there isn't anybody who can say i'm not.

i first really started missing America when i was living in Amsterdam for a semester. i was isolated, depressed, really high all the time, suffering from seasonal affective disorder, living with an angry German and having to read intense gender theory. not that there weren't some good times...but it was like, 83% shitty (that other 17% includes coffeeshops, tulips, bicycles, Vondelpark, and legal mushrooms). anyhow, back then i started compiling a mental list of things i loved and missed about America as opposed to "The Old World". i was planning to make a similar list in this post, but then realized how long it already was and that i want to go sit outside like, ten minutes ago.

besides, you guys know how great America is. things are open on Sundays, we have places like Target where you can get everything you need in one place, you can buy liquor 24 hours a day (at least in California...), there is like, truly legitimate freedom of speech and don't even get me started on the food. Peanut butter, sweet potato fries, and corn on the cob are all i can mention right now, and only one of those things is deep-fried. sure, in some ways we suck, have sucked, and will always suck. but today is a day when colonialism and George W. Bush and shitty healthcare and whatever else should be set aside in favor of sun, Trader Joe's potato salad, best friends, and the Monster Parade, the most bitchin' firework EVER.

America! FUCK YEAH!

Twitter! Or, my experiment in the culture of oversharing.

2009-06-28T21:29:00.000-07:00

Okay, so here's the deal: everyone I know is getting all bothered about Twitter. Either they can't get enough of it, or they seriously loathe the very idea or it.

I have heaped my share of scorn on Twitter, mostly because of its insta popularity and its prevalence on morning shows where Moms and Oprahs can ludicrously scratch their heads and wonder "What's all this about? I don't get it! Cha-ha-ha-ha-hah!" I'm usually opposed to a) popular things and b) internet fads that cause people on talk shows to ignore real issues like Iran. I also was pretty annoyed by the format change to my facebook account, a form of internet overshare that I have always embraced.

However, I have decided to try Twittering to see how all this works. Unfortunately, none of my close friends Twitter, so I'm going to have to send out feelers to some old acquaintances who are on the site (I suppose the verb is "tweet" but I can't really get behind that yet) which is potentially awkward but no more so than facebook pokes or status comment from people I haven't talked to in person since sophomore year of high school. Luckily, the community I grew up in is both incestuous and inherently friendly to everyone who originated there, so I won't be met without outright indignation.

Here's the proposition: I'm going to try this Twitter thing to see what comes of it. I might regularly update here about it, or I might just update you guys at the end of the month. In any case, I'm going to try to update my Twitter was much as possible for the next week, even if I don't feel like it, and then will update only as I feel like it for the next three weeks.

What will I share? Will I actually feel closer to the people whose feeds I follow? Will I become addicted to Twitter? How will celebrity Twitter feeds affect my daily life? Will I die? Will I fall in love?

These and other great life questions to come!
(Or, just a review.)

why Party Down is your new favorite show that you're not watching

2009-06-10T09:17:00.000-07:00

seriously, guys. the tenth and last episode of Party Down aired less than a month ago, and you still haven't checked it out, have you? c'mon, it's summer - sure, Weeds just started again, but that's only on Mondays, leaving six other days of the week for you to get to know Party Down. it's only half an hour, it really shouldn't take you that long to watch it all. BUT if you're having trouble getting into it, you're saying "Lauren, it airs on Starz, how good can it be?"; the answer is very very extra good, 183 percent good, although Starz may air shitty movies their original series are pretty awesome (you can check out Head Case if that's more your thing, but it's really only worth it for Ron Julio), and include boobs, cursing, sex, more boobs, and lots and lots of drugs.

still not convinced? take a few minutes and watch these clips, helpfully categorized by reason of awesomeness.

They Burn the American Flag On the Second Episode
"No!" "...Yeah..."

They Have Amazing Guest Stars
like Steven Weber, making you awesomely uncomfortable

George Takei, a staple at any SoCal gay wedding

& Jennifer Coolidge, who is never not hilarious

still not convinced? other awesome guest stars include Ed Begely, Jr., JK Simmons, Jason Dohring & Kristen Bell + anyone who was ever on Veronica Mars.

There Are Tons Of Hilarious Drug References
because who doesn't love drugs?

like ecstasy...

mushrooms...

...and of course, marijuana.

the second clip here includes an actor that many remember as Marvin on Weeds. dude is hella talented at smoking a roach.

The Cast is Fucking Amazing

even if you're not won over by the above clips or the fact that the show is mostly directed by Fred Savage & co-written by Paul Rudd and VMars' Rob Thomas, take a look at the cast.

-Ken Marino, who plays Ron, has been in Wet Hot American Summer, Dawson's Creek, and yes, VMars. Dude is pretty multifaceted; his characters are all super different.

-Jane Lynch, who plays Constance, has been in a shit ton of stuff. she is always funny. Best in Show, Role Models, and that new show Glee are just a few i can name without going to IMDB. you probably recognize her as that awkward tall funny lady.

-Martin Starr, who plays Roman, is probs best known as Bill from Freaks and Geeks. he was also in Knocked Up with a sexy beard.

-Ryan Hansen, who plays Kyle, was Dick on VMars. despite this (and the fact that he was in that terrible 80's flashback on Gossip Girl), he is awesome on Party Down. "I'm not gay!...My teeth!" will forever live in infamy. you will have to watch the episode titled Taylor Stiltskin's Super Sweet Sixteen to find out what that means.

-Lizzy Caplan, who plays Casey, was in Mean Girls and Freaks & Geeks and other awesome stuff where she can look hot and be funny and pretend that she doesn't want to be my girlfriend.

-Adam Scott, who plays main character Henry, has been in a bunch of stuff but he's not so easy to pin down. Six Feet Under, Eastbound & Down, Knocked Up...i'm guessing he's friends with Paul Rudd, because he's a lot funnier than that episode of Law & Order would have suggested.

SO - now that you know as much as i can tell you about the show without ruining it, you must go watch. it's available to watch instantly on Netflix, or you can find links here.

i will leave you with this clip, not only because Ricky Sargulesh may be my favorite character on the whole show, but also because who doesn't love celebrities, no? especially when they serve appetizers and do drugs and make the kind of television show i wish i could watch every day.

now go start watching! you can thank me later.

"It's Daisy of Love, not I Love Liquor!"

2009-05-03T21:28:00.000-07:00

that's a quote from daisy herself, mind you. and while the first episode was rife with crazy LA bro-rockers and some guy who has a 6 gauge prince albert and a dude from new jersey who is like paulie shore, but sadder...the best part was these guys. (i did not add the ROO, apologies for appropriating someone else's joke that i don't understand). they are swedish triplets. they are in a rock band called Snake[Insert Swedish Sounding Noise Here], but i decided to refer to them as "The Eighties" because of their remarkably descriptive nicknames. they date communally, because they are all the same person.

they are also the smartest recession-era reality show-ers since Marcia on Rock of Love Bus (free Patron and Doritos for everyone!), instantly admitting that they are there for the fun and the free shit (and maybe to figure out the mechanics of grabbing two giant boobs with three hands). and then when they get kicked off because daisy doesn't want to bone three guys who look like if bret michaels and avril lavigne and that dude from vampire weekend had three identical swedish babies. BUT on the way out Riki what's his face tells them to take any food or booze that they want - so they do. witness the trays of fried chicken and corndogs and gallons of JD that they make off with. they're my new heroes.

but seriously: "we also make tattoos on ourselves. we got a machine at home, and one night we get drunk and crazy and start to do tattoos on each other. and i hope to tattoo daisy once."

that's kinda hot.

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"if she wanna run the train, let's go." just tell me where i can buy that crazy-ass ticket, dudes, and i'm there.

Dealbreaker.

2009-04-28T01:45:00.001-07:00

This (Dealbreaker.) is something that I could contribute volumes to.

You have a soul patch.

I know it took you awhile to get your facial hair and this is probably the only way you can display it without revealing its truly patchy nature, but trust me. The surest sign that you own comic book protectors is a soul patch, and the way you absentmindedly touch it isn't helping anything.

pregnant women are creepy (and smug). the end.

2009-04-27T22:43:00.000-07:00

like always, i am behind the times. however, i can smell what the gooch is cooking, and it smells delicious. that is my weird way of saying that i am SO GLAD that there are people out there besides kate and me that are freaked out by pregnant women. i was going to say irritated as well, but then i realized that i try to avoid pregnant women to the point of almost never talking to them. i guess it's just as well since they're apparently so goddamn smug.

i do not want to touch your backstage pass, thankyouverymuch

2009-02-09T15:11:00.000-08:00

here's the truth: i want Rock of Love to be my rock of love...whatever that means. Flavor of Love at least made sense, as did Real Chance of Love (did anybody ever watch that? i did not.), but Rock of Love makes no sense. yet week after week Bret asks girls to be his "rock of love". taken out of the whole Poison/rockstar context (which i think we can do pretty easily), a rock of love seems to mean someone who is steady and reliable, as in, "my best friend has been such a rock lately." however, none of these ladies seem suitable to be my rock of love...and don't even get me started on Bret. thus, Rock of Love is my rock of love. an ode to why our love is so steady and real (obviously i'm here for the right reasons), below.

1. nothing else in the world can make me feel better about myself as a human being.
srsly guys. first season was bad enough, what with megan and the brandis and heather and lacey and the poor pink-haired girl who just wasn't down with Bret's weave once the camera's stopped rolling. we pink-haireds are snobs about other people's hair, just sayin'. anyway, since then the group of contestants has just gotten trashier, grosser, and more deformed. i have tried to find pictures of the RoL Bus girls but found nothing (sidenote: anybody wanna teach me how to make screengrabs?) so you're just gonna have to take my word for it if you're not watching yourself. but really: YOU SHOULD BE WATCHING. 43 minutes of angry, crazy, and/or fucking retarded women dressed like the pussycat dolls fighting for the affections of a washed-up hair metal star whose hair is no longer real yet whose eyemakeup more and more resembles the girls he's trying to rock into love. everyone of those 43 minutes will make you happy to be you, doing whatever it is you're doing, looking whatever way you look, because honestly THANK GOD YOU ARE NOT ANY OF THEM.

2. it lets me know how slutty i can dress without going overboard.
there is occasionally a dress that i don't hate worn on RoL. however, just 'cause i don't hate it doesn't mean that it could be worn to anywhere i would ever want to go. and so, as i evaluate my own wardrobe, not only do i feel tons less like a breast-mongering whore but i also realize that maybe i'm a little too grown-up and, i don't know, savvy to be wearing see-through lingere that is too small for my boobs out in public. not that i was too grown-up for that this summer, mind you, but i'm still learning. anyway, it's not that i love my boobs any less, it's that clearly when someone tells me to "dress to impress" i'm going to wear a nice, albeit cleavagey dress. that i would then forced to strike a stage in said dress is yet another reason i would never be on the show.

3. it teaches me about what (white*) men are really thinking about.
and the answer is boobs. boobs boobs boobs. all the time boobs. i honestly think that Bret would not give a hoot if there was actually a realsize curvy woman on RoL if she had boobs that she was willing to show off all the time (too bad the producers would never allow it & good thing too - them crazy bitches would make a fat girl cry). it also teaches us useful things about guys' emotional needs - they need to be wanted. Bret will end a girl's tour ASAP if he thinks or feels like she is there "for the wrong reasons"- those being anything other than the burning desire to tangle your fingers in the finest European extensions, stare into his silver-smudged eyes, and let him play you a crappy song on his guitar while big Jon stands in the corner like the bear in Mr. Burns' office. of course, the only way to prove how much you want Bret is to make a big whiny deal during challenges or surprise him, scantily clad (but that goes without saying), during some of his precious free time. both of these tactics have both worked and backfired, so proceed with caution and get ready to show your nipples. if, like current season's Brittanya, you have mastered the oblivious nipple-slip to the point where you can just act like your aureoles aren't hanging out for hours at a time - enjoy it. take a moment to laugh at the cameraman: "try blurring out 6 hours of footage, bitches!"
*if RoL and FoL have taught us anything, it's that black men like asses and white guys like boobs. thanks, vh1, for clearing that up for me. oh wait...Bret and Flav don't represent all the white and black dudes in the world?

4. it makes me appreciate the normal guys i meet.
seriously, after watching an episode of RoL and seeing these (occasionally superhot) girls going through skank-hell in order to maybe get to kiss Bret fucking Michaels, it makes me really thankful that i can go to a party or, if i'm feeling adventurous, a bar and meet someone who is easily 83 times more attractive and interesting than Bret fucking Michaels. and it doesn't matter if i get to kiss them or not - regardless, i'm not going to be kicked out of my house at the end of the night.

5. it keeps me from ever wanting to be on reality tv, EVER.
i don't know that i need to explain this. ignoring my personal issues with anxiety, insomnia, personal space, etc., there is a greater issue of NOT LOOKING LIKE AN IDIOT ON NATIONAL TELEVISION. and believe me, you will look like an idiot. whether or not you go on a show for Bret Michaels or to be a Top Model or if you go on for the "wrong reasons", like free tequila or the chance to have Miss J yell at you, you will, at some point, look like a complete idiot. but i'd like to take this chance to thank each and every one of those idiots, without whom this blog post would have never been possible. thank you, my children, for buying into the cult of celebrity and literally whoring yourself out for my entertainment and the slight chance that vh1 will put you in another famewhore show. you are all my rocks of love.

drinking away the part of the day that i cannot sleep away

2009-02-09T08:43:00.000-08:00

man, this blog has gotten neglected. it's not only the fact that i don't usually have something interesting to say three times a day or that i'm not getting paid to write it - honestly the main reason is that i'm usually on the computer when i'm smoking and when i'm smoking i can't type efficiently. there you go, i just slapped you with a truth-fact (after previously slapping you with silence for a few months).

i guess it also has something to do with the fact that i started working full-time at a non computer-based job around the same time that the blog started getting pretty thin. during this period it wasn't that i stopped thinking about long-winded television philosophies or stopped caring about reality show eliminations, it's that after i got off of work all my time was taken up by watching said television, reading Jezebel, or having actual human interactions. not to mention that kate works all the time and even i haven't talked to her in like, two weeks so...it's hard for us to maintain, ok? but i'm gonna try to get better.

so now i'm gonna make a list of things i've been angling to talk about and i'm gonna try to post at least two new posts this week on said subjects. vote for your favorites!

1. LOST
2. Milk
3. Rock of Love Bus
4. Revolutionary Road, or, Titanic II: What Would Have Happened, or, How To Avoid Seeing He's Just Not That Into You

coming next week: trip to portland and seattle! expect documentation.

if anyone can tell me which two shows were referenced in a single sentence above they will win a cookie and i will think that they are extra awesome. shoot for the stars, kids!

bikes on the brain

2009-01-28T01:24:00.000-08:00

I love my bike.

Anyone who knows me knows that I spend a little too much time thinking about bikes, researching bikes, learning about how to fix my bike, learning about what others do with bikes, and thinking about ways to ride my bike.

But I do this exclusively online. My friends who ride bikes are my brother, my friend Patch, my cousin and... that's it. (Shoutout to Handy, whose bikes I still haven't seen.) There's a guy at work who rides a fixed gear bike, like me, but we have opposite schedules and he has a new baby girl to take care of. So I don't really have anyone to talk with about bikes in real life. So, the internet.

On the internet, people are rude and judgmental and superficial. Because they can be! And I find that bike people, especially fixed gear bike people, who in real life tend to be geeky and sometimes awkward, but certainly nursing a chip on their shoulder of one kind (compensating) or another (socially terrified) tend to really let loose when online.

They judge others setups, paint jobs, saddles, tires, spokes, you name it. The sleeker, more expensive bikes get props. The homespun, franksteined, dirty, unfashionable bikes get trashed.

This piece by Bike Snob NYC sets things right.

Bikes are about having fun, doing things yourself, and enjoying the freedom of travel, exercise, and the road. They are not about image, money, or the like. Bikes are beautiful, bikes can be art, but bikes should not be status symbols in flickr popularity contests.

I like my bike, which has been hailed on the internet as "castrated" "ridiculous" and "stupid-looking."
I think it's comfortable, fun to ride, and DIY.
What a bike should be.

a wee mea culpa

2009-01-07T17:40:00.000-08:00

Haven't blogged in forevs, working on some stuff.
Coming up...
Lauren introduces the Legendary Hot/Bloody Scale!
Recap of Motherboy and Ode to Arrested Development!
Hot Jew of the Month!

and lots lots more!

You stay classy, internet.

"...and he likes the bonnet."

2008-11-11T12:22:00.000-08:00

"It was OK. I wasn’t into the waif thing. She kind of looked like my nephew. I mean she’s beautiful – she’s a very pretty nephew – but I’m more into curvy women." — Mark Wahlberg on posing with Kate Moss in those 1992 Calvin Klein ads.

WORRRRRRRRD. *enthusiastically bites off red licorice rope*

in defense of Slutoween

2008-11-07T10:50:00.000-08:00

i know, i know, it's been a week since Halloween. however, i got too trashed last Friday to be able to write this on Saturday as planned, and now i've got some time to kill (at work). and i don't have to worry about the election or really anything else, so i can put my full attention towards explaining the merits of the phenomena that many have taken to calling Slutoween.

let me start by saying that, as an adult, i pretty much hate Halloween. after the time passed when October 31st meant tons of free candy, the New Year's Eve-like expectations really started to get to me. i know a LOT of costume snobs, people who drop tons of money on excellent costumes, Marshall & Lilly-style. additionally, the concepts i come up with are often totally obscure, usually literary references and then i have to spend the whole night explaining to people what my costume is. although it makes me feel superior, it totally blows.

my second addendum is that i do not need the excuse of Halloween to dress like a slut. i am a slut. maybe not every day, since i work with kids and then oftentimes come home and get straight into my bathrobe, but when i go out to party/drink/seduce someone, There Will Be Boobs. i have a vast variety of slutty outfits at my disposal and am not afraid to use them.

Slutoween, i have come to learn, is the event at which women (it is implied that these women are stupid, skanky, and unoriginal - and perhaps some of them are) take the opportunity of costumes to dress hella slutty. there's also the "sexy" twist on classic costumes: sexy kitty, sexy cop, sexy angel, etc. i've had a tentative concept for the past few years of coming as a sexy fisherman - just waders, with the suspenders pastied to my boobs.

what is wrong with women taking an opportunity offered to them ONCE A YEAR to indulge in some playful exhibitionism? seriously. if you are an adult who celebrates Halloween (and does not have children), chances are you're not looking to relive your childhood through your costume. you are probably looking to (a) get drunk and (b) hook up, or, possibly (c) dance where everyone can see you. slutty outfits facilitate ALL THREE NEEDS! and no one gets hurt except the people who (a) take Halloween WAY too seriously or (b) prudes who are jealous of the Slutoweeniacs' freedom.

i have always been a person who is aware of and has fun with expressions of sexuality. when i was seven i coveted a "Spanish Senorita" costume and my parents actually bought it for me - maybe the only pre-fab costume i ever had. it was both original, cultural, AND womanly - perfection. Seven-year-old Lauren isn't being objectified - she's having fun.

so that's what i did this year. i threw my complicated, abstract costume out the window and at the last minute came as a contestant on Rock of Love. because to dress like a slut while parodying a show about trashy sluts while wearing all of your own slutty clothing - that's pretty meta. and because, after getting more drunk than i intended to and making out with someone who i thought was someone else and sleeping with a guy who i didn't really intend to sleep with...the next morning, i could just blame it on the costume. what can you blame YOUR indiscrestions on, all you Sarah Palins and Jokers, when you wake up with your broken rimless glasses and pancake makeup all over your pillows?

it's like the episode of Dawson's Creek where Andie's therapist tells her to "let her id out" and then her and Dawson get hella drunk and sing the blues and go crazy and Andie is inexplicably covered in glitter. maybe we should call it Idoween instead, as a tribute to our deepest, basest instincts. then everybody can stop pretending that Halloween is anything other than a pagan ritual meant to celebrate the harvest with haystack orgies, eat some funsize Snickers, and move on with our normal lives, slutty or no.

Obama is my president (and yours, too!) {OR}

2008-11-05T13:01:00.000-08:00

I can see clearly now, McCain is gone

seriously, i don't have any more words. i, like many, many others, have been wanting this for years (i first started listening to his podcast back at the beginning of '06) and while i would have been devastated if he had lost, political devastation is something i'm used to. when i was twelve i watched the Clinton impeachment hearings and threw things at the television. when i was fourteen i was aghast and angry and completely disillusioned after the Supreme Court ignored the democratic rights of the people and appointed George Bush in a 5-4 vote. when i was eighteen i really thought it was going to happen. we all hated GWB so much that even as the interesting Democratic contenders like Dean and Clark fell by the wayside it seemed like there was NO POSSIBLE WAY that Bush could win, even in a fight against a windsurfing Easter Island statue with a wimpy campaign staff. The next afternoon i sobbed in front of the television as John Kerry gave in to disenfranchisement and pressure for a speedy election. hate and anger for Bush were not enough to drive Kerry to victory and in a way, i'm glad he lost in '04. because without four more years of Bush we would not now have Obama changing the world with hope and truth and actually uniting this country that i am once again proud to love.

but still - i am unsure how to handle my elation. little burps of joy keep spilling out of me. the campaign sent me an email that was from Barack, thanking me for whatever work i did and being awesome and inspirational before going off to give his amazing speech. I AM SAVING THAT EMAIL. i know Obama doesn't know who i am, but it doesn't matter. my president wanted to thank me, and in 50 years, after twenty-five more inspiring or disappointing elections, i can show that to my kids and tell them how i was a part of the Generation of Change. because i have faith that President Obama will lead this country and its people to a stronger, more United States of America and, one can hope, a better world.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH OBAMA!
that is what happens inside my head approximately every thirty seconds.

also breathing is easier. and i'm not freaking out because i know i will probs be able to afford health care now. also: no more sarah palin. even if she's around, i'm not gonna worry about it. she will not be president.

PLUS although Prop 8 (barely) passed, they're already challenging it in court. and it will be overturned because it is OBVS unconstitutional. so SUCK ON THAT, bigots.

so i guess i had some words left. but mostly i'm stuck in a few moments from last night: giddily shouting "WHAT THE FUCK!" at Jon Stewart after he unexpectedly announced Obama had won; holding Anna's hand during the speech; crying with Jesse Jackson.

guess i should prepare for the future. I'm thinking 2208 - when time travel is finally possible. sorry Biden, but the all-Illinois ticket is a killer. Obama/Lincoln '08!

I'd rather go naked than vote for Prop 8.

2008-10-26T22:52:00.000-07:00

As you probably know, there is a proposition on the California State Ballot that would amend the Constitution of California to exclude same-sex marriages from ever being recognized by the state. This proposition, Prop 8, is being advertised as "Protection of Marriage."

I, being a person who believes in civil rights and equality of all people in the eyes of the state, in addition to being a person who may one day wish to legally wed a person sharing my gender, am vehemently against this proposition. I filled out "No" when mailing my Humboldt County absentee ballot back to my parents so they could mail it to the state from a Humboldt address. (We really don't want to arouse ANY suspicion that I might not be in the county in which I am registered. Shout out to the CA Voting Bureau, what up!) "No" meaning "yes" to gay marriage and "no no never never" to legal oppression of a minority group.

Since I'm not in Humboldt County anymore, nor even one of the southern bastions of liberalism that I've heard exist somewhere south of the Bay Area (believe me, I haven't found one yet) I am somewhat outnumbered in my opposition to Prop 8. And I have a really hard time dealing with that. This kind of hatred is something I haven't had very much experience countering. Even the Republicans I know from back home believe in equal rights - generally. I can at least have a reasonable discussion. But these bigots out here are far too religious, far too zealous, and far too unchallenged in their views.

After much thought and a conversation with my (generally very liberal) grandma that involved her blaming gay people for making heterosexual sex dangerous (yeah, she was talking about AIDS) and her saying "Katie, I don't like anal sex!" to me over the phone, I've finally come up with a good analogy for amending the constitution to make gay marriage illegal.

It's like vegetarians amending the constitution to make eating meat illegal.
Insert gay sexual innuendo here.

But, really. There are plenty of people who feel the same way about meat eating and as Prop 8 proponents feel about... well, "meat eating." I once had a friend spit out a tomato because she thought it contained fish genes, that's how against meat this girl was. Plenty of vegetarians have tried to convert people over from their meat eating ways, saying that they'll be happier, healthier, and that they "won't even miss it." They can't legislate against eating meat! Because, whatever vegetarians might claim, eating meat doesn't infringe on the ability or the right of the vegetarians to NOT eat meat. Vegetarians can always pass on meat if they so choose, and no one is going to force them to eat it just because some people are exercising a choice. Just because some people like eating meat doesn't mean it's more difficult for the vegetarians to abstain. (Unless the vegetarian is secretly harboring a love for meat, but that's a whole 'nother chapter called "Denial.")

Prop 8 is a piece of potential legislation that is based more on individual discomfort and religious opportunism - proselytizing through the California Constitution - than the actual degradation of marriage the institution. Denying this right to anyone is illegal in the US (Lawrence v. Texas, a decision that overturned sodomy laws in the state of Texas, extended constitutional protection to "personal decisions relating to marriage, procreation, contraception, family relationships, child rearing and education.") and is just plain anti-human.

So, "vegetarians," you don't have to eat meat. But you sure as hell can't stop me from eating whatever the hell I choose (I have a penchant for sushi) and I sure as hell don't buy that vegetarianism is threatened by my fish-eating ways. Prop 8 proponents are PETA and I don't like where they're throwing the red paint.

au revoir, Project Runway...who knows when we shall meet again?

2008-10-19T14:34:00.000-07:00

we'll always have that one time in paris when jeffrey made that awesome couture dress out of cotton yellow plaid and heidi confused "bunny ears" with "cinnamon buns" and vincent was finally kicked off after putting his together with glue and upholstery.

so with the season 5 finale that aired on wednesday (we'll get to that later), the fate of Project Runway is floundering due to Harvey Weinstein being an irredeemable asshole and betraying the show's fan base in an effort to make more money. of the three possible outcomes, only one will keep me watching with the same level of rabid fanaticism.

1. Weinstein refuses to cave, the courts uphold their decision and Project Runway is dead and cancelled. the designers currently working on season 6 are totally screwed. awesome people everywhere weep and drink wine and watch reruns of past seasons and thank the lord that they already discovered Jay McCarroll.

2. Weinstein wins and the show moves to Lifetime. LIFETIME??? *splutters angrily* i could see ProjRun doing well on a major network like NBC, but no one watches lifetime except older women and surprise! that's not the show's biggest fanbase. how can they neglect to recognize that Bravo's franchise of non-threatening gayness (as originated by Queer Eye) helped launch Project Runway in the first place? also, the new seasons will be in LA (yuck - very ANTM-ish) and i just think that Tim Gunn's skin is too sensitive for the hot desert climate.

3. Weinstein loses, justice reigns, and Project Runway stays on Bravo! would still have to deal with the LA location for at least one season, but at least the current designers wouldn't have done all that work for nothing and things could stay the same. here's hoping that does a MIRACLE truly take place and Bravo wins, the Magical Elves production company will come back to the show.

in the meantime, a new season of Top Chef is just around the corner - and at least they know that New York is where it's at.

Debate Thoughts

2008-10-08T01:10:00.000-07:00

McCain really does look like a melting munchkin, his wheezing is quite frightening, and I (going back to the melting) very much wish that they would do something with his makeup to stop him from looking like a wax version of himself. It's just discomforting.

Obama's makeup isn't much better. He's so much more handsome with dark circles under his eyes. Much like Sophia Loren.

Obama did a great job, especially when talking about using our allies to help out on "moral issues" interventions (Darfur, ahem.) He also didn't shy away from talking about the 9/11 bait and switch, which I think is really really important to remember. Also, had anyone else kind of forgetten about the Axis of Evil until Obama mentioned it? Because I had. It kind of gave me the creeps. And made me think a lot about high school and my Econ teacher, Mr. Fillipini. I don't like all the clean coal/nuclear energy talk, but I understand why it's got to happen. He addressed the sacrifices question nicely as well, I felt like he was honest about what will really be a challenge without veering into talking points or seeming fear-mongery and negative. I can't say enough how refreshing it was to hear about our energy consumption over and over again. Not just what kinds we're using and where we get it from, but an emphasis on each and every person using less. Not an easy thing to say without seeming like we're veering into WWII rubber and metal drives and victory gardens and rationed sugar and stuff, but he did it. He also made a joke about his relationship with Michelle, which I liked because I think the more we talk about their awesome marriage, the better for the campaign. Because, seriously, best first couple EVER. Overall, Obama FTW! (Of course.)

McCain... well, there's the wheezing. I mean, the man sounds like he couldn't walk a flight of stairs! And he'll have to while in the White House - I know, I watch The West Wing. I can't believe he called Obama "that one" and couldn't remember Oliver's name. AND assumed that Oliver was stupid enough to not have heard of Fanny and Freddie before the mortgage crisis. That was really disrespectful. McCain just generally seemed on the defensive most of the time. And what's all this about buying the mortgages? I thought that's what the bailout was? All those trillion dollars and we're NOT buying mortgages? He's senile. I'm not economic policy-savvy, but I both know what the bailout is (unlike McCain) and heard of Fanny and Freddie way before the Wall Street bullshit (unlike what McCain assumes about Americans.) I thought it was funny that McCain said "steady hand" because I kind of doubt that he's got those after 5pm most days. Also, Jello. Who even eats Jello?

I like town hall debates, but as Lauren said the text message I got at 6:33pm:
"Debate! This format is not kind to mccain. He is hunchbacked and tiny and he cant sit back in his chair cuz then his legs wouldnt touch the floor."

Now I'm going to watch Olbermann interview Rachel Maddow, my current punditcrush, and take this clay mask off my face. Politicizing in luxury, baby.

the sweet song of rufus

2008-10-04T14:30:00.000-07:00

am sitting out on the deck, smoking and playing mahjong solitaire and listening to the rufus wainwright album i just bought (after seeing his adorable face on the GLAAD media awards winning a super special prize 'cause he's awesome), Release the Stars. it's good.

so good, in fact, that a small bird just landed on the top of my monitor. stayed for a few seconds, listening, and then flew away when i tried to pull a Mary Poppins and put my finger out, hoping it might land and warble at me. alas.

still, it was cool. just thought i'd share.

the master of my domain

2008-09-29T21:06:00.001-07:00

So, I've been reading a lot about the various fasting cleanses there are out there now.

You know, there used to just be the Master Cleanse, which is the lemon juice-maple syrup-cayenne pepper-h2o mixture that makes your breath smell and your poop liquid. There are veggie-only cleanses, grapefruit cleanses, and ones that make you drink saline and laxative tea so you flush all of the crud that's supposedly "stuck" in your GI for "years." (Most general practitioners say that people with normal BMs clear thair colon every 3 days.) Nevertheless, I've been reading up - from Oprah's blog to weird plastic-surgery obsessed Myspacers - everyone and their mom is cleansing something.

And I'm usually one of those people who turns up her prettily plump nose at weird diet trends, especially ones that involve cutting down ones intake of my favorite thing: food. They also usually recommend not ingesting a drop of my second favorite thing: beer. So, in general, I think diets set out to make women miserable. Watching what you eat is different, of course. And it's the recent watching of my eating habits that have scurred me into this cleanse stuff. (Ironically, Robin from How I Met Your Mother was coming off a "fast" in tonight's episode. See? It's everywhere.)

I have terrible eating habits here.
To give you an idea, here is the food that I have in my house right now:
Humbolt Honey
Humboldt-made Blackberry jam
Adam's natural peanut butter
Honey nut Cheerios (about two bowls left)
Sara Lee (preservative-packed) Whole wheat raisin bagels (3 bagels left)
1 unopened box of off-brand instant apple cinnamon oatmeal
Kashi TLC granola bars in Trail Mix (2 left)
1 Can of Sparks Caffeinated Malt Beverage (Leftover from the party I went to last night in Morro Bay. Got home at 4pm, bitches.)

Add to that the fast food/junk food remnants from:
In-N-Out, Taco Bell, Carl's Junior, Green Burrito, Subway, and Starbucks
Plus two bags of Cool Ranch Doritos

I have not been eating well!
The problem is this: Not enough time, not enough money, not enough motivation, not enough fresh local restaurants.
I just can't be bothered to cook for myself, my work hours taking me well into the late evening and my breaks being maybe an hour at best, and fast food is just easy. I eat salads, order my gorditas "Fresco!" at Taco Bell, and only indulge in In-N-Out when I'm really craving those piping hot fries. But I have gained and lost weight since I got here in a strange and alarming fashion that seems to result in my starving myself on Kashi bars one day, and eating out three times the next. I have tried to break myself of this destructive cycle, but to no avail. If I take the time, plan out what I eat carefully, and buy fresh food that will allow me to eat a balanced diet (I can't tell you how I crave tomatoes!) I will be happier and healthier, really and truly. I haven't been able to get there - yet.

So, with October, and my disastrously small chunk of change I have to work with, I am going to try my damndest to eat better and spend less. On my list of must-buys at Foods Co (the central coast's version of Win Co) is brown rice, frozen spinach, quinoa, canned black beans, string cheese, carrots, more Kashi bars, and apples. Of course, I looked at this and was like "There's no way I can live off that for four weeks - or afford it all for under $40. But a big jug of lemonade and some maple syrup would 'feed' me for 10 days! And I'd have to come off that slowly, so that's more food I don't have to buy!"

That's a new way to sell the Master Cleanse: Cheaper than eating!
In all honesty, there's no way I'm going to actually go through with this cleanse thing. First of all, there are way too many steps. Senna tea at night, then saline in the morning - and then you have to hang around the can for an hour to make sure you don't shit yourself in an embarassing place. That just wouldn't work for me, as I tend to wake up about a half hour before I have to be somewhere and spend the next fifteen minutes checking the Internet, thirty seconds trying to look unlike a zombie, and I hit the road. I'd be sure to have an embarassing incident on my bike halfway to work. Not to mention the sheer discipline of the thing, which I think we've sufficiently established I don't have.

But, lemme tell ya. If there ever was something that would get me to follow through on the cleanse, it's poverty.
Oh yes. Poverty indeed.

"look at his stupid face"

2008-09-22T18:44:00.000-07:00

i watched the emmys last night. they were pretty lame - the opening monologue was flat-out retarded - and voters yet again kind of sucked. or maybe they were just predictable, which to me counts as sucking.

not that i don't LOVE the piv, but did he really need ANOTHER emmy? the difference between the oscars and the emmys is that at the emmys people are often nominated multiple times for the same role. which is fine every once in a while because roles change, become more nuanced and challenging and whatnot. but emmy voters so often get stuck in a rut, voting for the same crappy shit (like the old guy from everybody loves raymond who won like, six times - i think he might have even won posthumously or something.) and talented people and great shows get passed over. i could not believe the amazing race has won best reality show for SIX FUCKING YEARS. who watches the amazing race? i weep for project runway's last shot.

people who were robbed by emmy voters being stupid:
-Neil Patrick Harris. the piv totally rocks ari gold, but i've seen it. Barney...has changed my life. plus without him HIMYM would be totally lame.

-Michael Emerson. Emerson has been the most captivating actor on the most captivating show (LOST) since his 6-episode arc turned into arguably the most pivotal role on the show.

-Jon Hamm. i don't care who won. Jon Hamm, like, is a magical being who takes me into his world of cigarettes and ennui and i never want to leave.

-Rainn Wilson. i love 30 Rock and alec baldwin is great on it. but Rainn Wilson is a comedy god, and he deserves some respect.

in better news, hooray for Glenn Close (I have to watch more Damages), Tina Fey, Stewart & Colbert, all the John Adams shit & Mad Men.

to end, the funniest thing that happened all night. i was about to get up to get some food when Ricky Gervais came on and i ended up doubled-up laughing in front of the television. Gervais is obviously hilarious at the needling sort of jokes he does and Steve Carell is so fucking straight with Jon Stewart and Steven Colbert and Rainn Wilson and his wife laughing all around him...oh man, just watch it.

one is the lonliest number

2008-09-19T23:52:00.000-07:00

Am I the only person left who still has Old Facebook?

I don't want new Facebook, but it's pretty weird that every day I'm getting invites to petition groups, getting sent secret codes for getting the Old Facebook back, and seeing friends statuses broadcasting their misery.

Did I get left behind in some sort of twisted internet rapture?

Yeah, I do feel like I imagine I would if all the good Christians got beamed up from earth, leaving me and the heathens behind to enjoy ourselves: smug.

EDIT: Oh my god, not THIRTY seconds after posting this, my fb converted to new Facebook.
There are seriously internet spies everywhere. WHY, facebook? WHY?!

I thought I had at least another week of flying under M.Zuck's radar.
Phooey.

on imminent death, dying, deadsies...and gossip girl

2008-09-17T11:45:00.000-07:00

every once in a while my parents make a large pot of black beans. they have been doing this for as long as i can remember; they are delicious and taste like home. however, were it not for my intrepid nature and tiny bladder they might have killed us all.

i woke up at about 5 this morning cause i had to pee, but when i opened my door i thought i smelled gas. pausing at the top of the stairs, i sniffed the air in an investigative manner and definitely smelled gas. i went down to the kitchen and found that the pot of beans had been left to cook overnight. the low flame had been snuffed out and gas was indeed seeping into the nooks of my house, waiting to become a giant flameball.

i had some trouble getting back to sleep.

granted i opened a few windows to let the gas escape, but it was hard to put the image out of my mind of my mom turning on the stove in the morning and blowing her face off. and then, of course, our house would burn down and i would probably perish in the flames if not from having to jump off of the roof. it was not particularly the best way to start my day; i have always been terrified of the house burning down...i used to have nightmares about it as a child. the worst part was when my dolls' faces melted off before i could save them. that shit will traumatize you.

anyway, moral: don't fucking cook things overnight on your gas stove when it is cold and drafty outside, especially if the pilot on the stove has been hella wonky lately.

i typed that sentence and instantly began craving a wonka bar. for those of you who don't know, wonka bars are the best candy bar ever, even if they're only chocolate and graham cracker pieces. they are trumped only by wonka bar eggs, which have chocolate ganache and caramel and, of course, graham cracker pieces. make your life better and pick one up today! man, i should get them to sponsor our blog.

as always, i digress. after considering a tragic, fireball-related death i got back into bed and watched the first episode of the new season of Gossip Girl. i have been putting off getting back into the show because, let's be honest, i'm just not that into it. the writing is terrible, like, all the time hands-down worst writing on television that isn't for a reality show or Fox News. it has, as previously mentioned, obscured my fave show Dawson's Creek for a new perspective that has absolutely no basis at all in reality. following that logic-less line, the last few episodes last season were SO poorly written and SO NOT based in reality (not to mention they featured the most annoying character michelle trachtenberg has ever played, and that's including the pop star who seduces david's boyfriend keith in Six Feet Under) that by the finale i kind of despised the show.

however, a new day - and a new season - dawns. and after avoiding recaps on jezebel for a few weeks, i'm ready to remove my brain from my skull and give GG another try, especially if it's going to distract me from the imminent possibility of deadsies, which is really just too much fun to keep from saying again. try it yourself: deadsies! now you don't feel so bad about it happening one day. you're welcome.

anyhow, the gang is not yet back from summer vacation, as obviously at least one episode extolling the excessive virtures of the Hamptons is absolutely necessary. yet aside from the frankly retarded dialogue the show is already piquing my interest/mildly entertaining me again. there is one reason, and one reason only for this: Chuck Bass.

Chuck Bass is engrossing because not only is he basically the only guy on that show i would fuck (besides Rufus, but i'm still not convinced that my lust for him isn't entirely related to my lust for Rufus Wainwright), but he is different than many men you see on TV. sure, he's a sex-obsessed womanizer. but there's more! he actually likes himself, and instead of wanting to change his bad boy ways he looks to turn his interests into a viable part of his life (ie last season's burlesque club). he also wears scarves and powder-blue suits and is as unabashedly metrosexual as is humanly possible. which leads me to this:

Ed Westwick is totally bi. separating the actor from the character for a moment, and even putting aside all those rumors of Ed and Chase Crawford...he's totally bi. and you know, i'm not here to put people into boxes or whatever, but my bi-dar is like, going crazy with this one. because he's clearly into women. but he also seems to be pretty into men (or at least CC). and he dresses like Chuck Bass! but in real life.

anyway, i haven't even finished the first episode but i have a feeling i'll be sticking around for a while this season. because although the Chuck/Blair storyline may be heavily reminiscent of another (better) CW show - second season Veronica Mars, anyone? - Chuck's got something different about him. it may just be the silk scarves or maybe it's the bi coming out in him. time will tell.

"Whoa, this is the most stoney conversation I've had about theatre..."

2008-08-30T02:14:00.000-07:00

So, as I've written, I just moved. Somewhere far away. (But not far far away.) And one of my main concerns re: my social life was finding people who smoked weed. I've previously been in an environment where my (relatively mild, for Humboldt) pot habit has been publicly frowned upon. It wasn't fun, and endemic of that environment is a certain uptightness and conservatism. I did not want to be placed in that kind of environment again, solely because of the negative social attributes and not because of the prospect of ceasing to get baked.

But, thank the lord, I have found my pot smokers! They are people who I thought were cool, anyway, and to learn that they also smoked weed was just a bonus. Partly because it's something we have in common, and partly because then I could get some. And so that was awesome. And we had stoney conversations in which I'm convinced that I talked too much, but the stonedness (after having built up an pretty significant detox period, three weeks!) and the lack of anyone to hang out with in the evenings for the past two weeks, made for one chatty Kathy. But, yeah, awesome. Then new friend Jon and I watched DNC speeches on the TiVo. More awesome.

Then, stoned as all hell and on the drive home, something happened to me.
I transcended space and time.

Transcending space and time is something that I learned about from Lauren and our friend Cooper (whose boyfriend just met Tim Gunn! But that's another, ProjRun-related post.) It's not so much a transcendental experience as a change in perception caused by extraneous ciscumstances and drug consumption. Lauren could describe it better.

Transcending space and time occurs when you suddenly realize that you have no idea where you are or how you got there. And you don't have to be out of your mind on narcotics or physchedlics. All you need is a foggy night or an unfamiliar environment or - in the case of my experince last night - both. In Santa Maria, the marine layer rolls in around sunset and burns off around nine or ten in the morning. Last night I was hanging out at new friend Jon's house (happily to consume some green) and I left at like 2:40am to get some sleep after getting super stoked on Biden.

And driving home, from an area of Santa Maria I hadn't even driven through before, much less become accustomed to, I transcended space and time. In the past, my experiences have been brief, occuring entirely in HumCo, where I know most roads like the top of my left foot. This one lasted for twenty five minutes. I knew that I should keep going straight on the same road, for it was the same road I drove in on, but I recognized nothing. I knew nothing of the area and for the life of me, I couldn't tell you if I was driving east or west, north or south. When you are supposed to recognize a terrain but do not, it's like geograhic amnesia. Every inch of me was straining to find something, anything, that looked familiar. That I could use as a touchstone to grab more familiar things. Every intersection was like a discovery, and more weird stuff - random cyclists, pedestrians, Hummers and carnecerias - would jump out at me each passing minute.

I felt really, really, searingly alone.

All other incidences of transcending space and time have been with Lauren, or by myself in a place I knew. It was exciting and strange and unusual. The discoveries then were novel, like getting a first impression for a second time, after you already know the ins and outs of a thing. I'd like to do that with people, sometimes. Occasionally I get flashes of what a first impression might be of me, or of others I know, and it's the same feeling as transcending space and time. It's like a double vision.

This time it was like a physical manifestation of my emotional life the past three weeks. Continually reaching out and searching for something to grab on to, something to anchor me here, a push or pull, an interaction. And finding only fog and orange street lights.

So I light one of the cigarettes I've taken to smoking, once a day, on the drive home from rehearsal, and revel in the one thing I can: No one knows me here, and I can choose my mistakes.

it's not safe to be naked

2008-08-23T20:51:00.000-07:00

Cool Gentlemen Reg song of the entry title here.

* * *

Lauren and I talk a lot, between ourselves, about the importance of honesty. I tend to operate with the Golden Rule of Honesty in mind: I will be honest, and trust that you too will be honest, and as long as I can trust your honesty, everything between us will be okay. Be honest unto others as you would have them be honest unto you. Or whatever. (this rule would work really well except we seem to be the only ones who enjoy such open communication - L)

And, this is awesome generally. You'll hardly ever get into fights with friends because you won't hold grudges, you won't hide bad feelings, and when you or others express your feelings, the mere fact that you're being upfront and honest about those feelings eliminates the causes of most conflicts (word.). This policy, however, is made much more difficult when you're trying to make new friends.

For example, when trying to make new friends, you probably shouldn't share that you're feeling really lonely and longing for social interaction. You probably shouldn't tell them that they're the only person you have to hang out with. My penchant for sharing and confidences has turned into a desperate tendency to over-share and become frantically animated when holding an un-work-related conversation. (omg, you're like me in amsterdam.)

I have all confidence that I'll make some new friends, who are equally as awesome as my HumCo people and who also enjoy Arrested Development and pad thai and maybe, if I'm lucky, smoking weed. Until then I have to try to curb my mouth and emotions and play hard to get for awhile.

Playing hard to get is something that Lauren and I also have serious issues with. Speaking only for myself now (Why? it's not like this hasn't been my problem since FOREVER), I have a serious problem trying to date people because I am percieved to "come on strong." Which maybe means I do, but I optimistically am of the opinion that I'm just forthright. I don't want to waste my time being coy (which I actually can't do at all ever) if the person is going to end up disinterested in the end anyway. I'd rather say "Hey, wanna make out?" or "I think you're awesome. Let's hang out more," than pretend otherwise in the hopes of intriguing them with mystery. I'm always convinced that they'll imagine me to be one thing, and I'll turn out to be totally different and then we'll both be dissapointed. Thus, my extra frank attitude prevents false impressions, but entails a lot of frustration, waiting for someone who likes the naked picture of myself I paint. (Dude, see my thing has less to do with impressions and more to do with expectations. like, i don't want someone to expect me to be like, normal or reserved or shy or something else i'm not...and if i make my desires and intentions clear than hopefully they will reciprocate and not be confused about expectations. except it almost never works that way cause i'll be all straightforward and they'll still be trying to play crazy coy games. bah.)

Someone said (somewhere, in some context, in different words, that I can't remember right now, three beers into my evening) that seduction is keeping your clothes on and tempting others into imagining what it would be like to undress you. And I see how that works, but I'm more of a flasher. I choose a target, let them see the basic shape of me, and let them decide whether they'd like a longer or more in-focus view. (i, on the other hand, am Lady Godiva.)

I, still optimistically, think that more people would take this efficient, direct method of interaction if they were less scared of what others think of them. The only reason, and the only way, I can continue my flasher ways is that I am thoroughly comfortable with myself - though insecure in other, regular ways - and confident that if one person doesn't find me to be their cup of tea, someone else will. I, unlike lots of people I meet, actually LIKE myself (word! and we're not looking for someone else to "complete" us) . I was raised in a place where it's okay to be who you wanna be, and be friends with people totally unlike yourself. Luckily I have supportive parents and a career that fulfills me creatively and intellectually. And, now, monetarily as well! I don't see any reason to dislike myself, or base my self-worth entirely on others opinions.

So, I will continue to flash away until someone bites - for friendship or whatever - and I'm more and more okay with the solitary times in between.
Because it's quality time with someone I love: me.
(i love me, too! and i love you, and you love me...we should just move to Italy and have a sexless partnership a la Gore Vidal. and maybe bring along some pool boys and bisexual lady masseuses. ah, i digress...)

And... thank god for the internet.

On getting paid to stand around naked...

2008-08-20T11:26:00.000-07:00

i recently started a new job. it pays $15/hr and i only work a few times a month. i get naked and sweaty; my muscles get sore. but it's not really as hard as you'd think.

so this is what i realized: being a live nude art model is actually a lot like having sex, minus the physical pleasure bit. does this make me some sort of a prostitute? no, because it's not like the artists are naked and sweaty and sexified. they are normal people who want nothing more from me than interesting poses and an ability to stand very still; this i learned that i can do very well.

isn't it weird? my friends all ask me, standing around naked in front of strangers? the very simple answer i have is no, it is not weird. at no point was i made to feel uncomfortable or awkward; instead many of the artists complimented me on my poses and endurance and were surprised that it was my first time. in fact i often felt more comfortable than i do in a swimsuit in front of my friends - in this setting there was no need or reason to be ashamed of or try to hide my fat rolls or butt cellulite and so for once i stopped thinking about how my body was being viewed sexually and considered a more artistic perspective.

it helps, of course, that i AM very comfortable with my body and showing off my body even when wearing clothes and that i was raised in a household and a community where such things as nakedness are not really the biggest deal in the world.

one of the artists gave me a pastel piece he did of me - i'm proud of it and want to show it to people! except...there i am, naked. you can see my buttcrack. which i could care less about, but you can't just go around hanging naked pictures of yourself on your walls, can you? you can't say to a casual visiting aquaintance, hey, wanna see this naked drawing of me? where i'm NAKED? because then, regardless of intention, they will probably think i am trying to bone them in addition to thinking i am a creepy hippie.

the drawing is not any lewder than the above Degas, but that doesn't mean i could post it on Facebook without slut-related repercussions.

in summation: i love my new job. it's like being a prostitute without the penises, cheap clothing, STDs, and extravagant pay. but, like many things in life, people do not understand and society wants me to be ashamed of my naked body-cum-art yet revels in the cam-whoriest of photos, such as this one, which is currently fronting my MySpace page. i could write a whole other post about the prudishness in this country where people freak about about bra straps and cleavage and then wear tiny bikinis to the beach. thankfully i have no such puritan hypocrisies - for me it's all slutty, all the time. i'm just waiting for everyone else to catch on to the trend and to stop being miserable and be awesome instead.

true story.

Bikes are either fixed or broken.

2008-08-19T21:36:00.000-07:00

BEST VID.
Kind of really sexy.

Crush Hour: Gabe Delahaye

2008-08-17T22:41:00.000-07:00

Jew of the Week of August 17 - 24, and my current crush: Gabriel Delahaye

Huffington Post blogger, writer for corporate-casual.com, Gawker contributor, and key dude in the cogs one of my daily hits, videogum.com, Gabe is a man about town.
Of course by "town" I mean "the internet."

Homeboy is smart but, better, hot and hairy. His many stages of facial hair can be seen in his video Gabriel Delahaye Takes a Picture of Himself Every Day, and Gabe and Max's Internet Thing.

One of his main stomping grounds, Gawker, compiled a fetching photo gallery of Gabe's pinup physique and deliciously Jewy nose here. Enjoy, chosen and unchosen ones alike.

Best Gabe Thing: Gabe's Vlog, part of Videogum's Double-Dog feature.

But, really, no context is needed:

Video Yum.

little boxes all the same

2008-08-15T22:41:00.000-07:00

I'm so bored I could tattoo my own face.

In the past 36 hours, I have consumed:
- FOUR spliffs containing the last of my Humboldt weed (literally crumbs and leaf flecks from the bottom of my Altoids container, mixed with the last bit of my Nat Shermans and this yucky bag of Bugler tobacco which was the only thing available when I was desperate at the gas station that is also a Subway)
- TWO fast food meals (Green Burrito, which is as good as it gets for super-quick food, and In-N-Out, which is addicting as fuck I'm guessing since I want more of it RIGHT NOW) plus ONE Snickers McFlurry which I took into one of the
- TWO showings of Pineapple Express (both evening shows costing me $18 in toto) after which I drank
- TWO 22 fl oz of Fat Tire (the only good beer available at 7-11 furthest from my house, which at the time was the only 7-11 whose whearabouts I was familiar with. I have since discovered two more, both within a four block radius from my house.)
And lastly
- FOUR Venti Iced Coffees from Starbucks (I need my caffeine, twice daily thank you, and it must be cold, as the 80º temperatures of my new environs are almost unbearable. I have tried the only local coffeeshops and they give out styrofoam cups. Better the 'Bucks than local tyrofoam - at least their cups are recyclable.)

I also ate salad and some toast, plus three plums from the snack bucket at work.

I am sooo bored and sick to death of driving everywhere.

Tomorrow, I am driving an hour to buy this bike. An hour seems like a long drive, but there are LITERALLY no bikes at all for sale in my stupid flat town and scads and scads north and south of me. Plus, as my buddy Patch would say, "3 speeds are where it's at" and, if this one doesn't work out, there's a cool Raleigh 3 speed I can buy in SLO. Two excellent bike options... but after peeping that awesome dagger fender on the Phillips, it's really hard to pass up.

I can't wait to bke to work!!! The weather here is gorgeous and I've now figured out two good bike route to get to work! Both of which take me past a Starbucks.
Natch.

Apartment Wishlist; or, Ideal Essentials

2008-07-24T10:35:00.000-07:00

I'm moving.
I'm moving out of the house I moved into after I moved out of my parents house for the first and only time (so far.)

So, I moved from my childhood home to this house, a seven-person single floor house at the base of the mountain that overlooks Arcata. Moving into a fully furnished house is both convenient and frustrating, because while it's easy to move with only your bedroom possessions, you never really make a mark on the house and are constantly living in borrowed space. I fixed the borrowed feeling of my bedroom with a bright coat of yellow paint, but the rest of the house is just somewhere I take up space. We don't belong to each other, really. It is the plight of the renter to always have to force and cultivate a relationship to the space you inhabit. And maybe this is something that is easier for other people to do, but the way I grew up and the longer-than-normal span of time I spent in my childhood home (age 7 to 21) in my terra-cotta colored room has caused me to be what I consider passionate (and others consider snotty) about my living spaces.

So, I'm moving to a huge converted garage room in a house with three guys in Santa Maria. It's going to be huge, cold, carpeted, and WHITE. To combat the foreign, echoey whiteness, I'm planning on bringing lots of batik sarongs and cheap yards of Tibetan scarves to hang on the wall and ceiling, and my beloved paper lanterns. However, if I had greater resources, here is what I would set my room up with to make it mine:

Red-orange walls, with white ceiling and trim.
Exactly this color and texture. I'd also love to paint some chickens, too.

These fabrics for curtains and the backs of the furniture.

Saint candles on the tables and windows.

This specific, exact coffee table made of a modified file cabinet, with sand and beach glass under the tabletop. Also with floor cushions the same colors as the beach glass.
My knitting projects and supplies would be stored in the drawers.

Double papasan chair.

This specific, exact 1960's metal desk, powder painted red.

The tall green and yellow dresser on the right. That exact one.

Any glass front vintage medical cabinet - metal, not wood - with adjustable glass shelves to be used as a bookshelf.

Sewing table that fits my ancient black Singer.

Two of these coat racks.

And, remembering the unlimited resources, Maira Kalman paintings. Though I'd settle for framed prints.

The things that don't matter:
My bed. As long as it's larger than a twin and my pink and yellow patchwork heart quilt is on top of it.

Things I'd keep/that I'm actually bringing with me:
Wicker bedside table, computer, canvas hanging shoe rack, cork board, dented full-length mirror that warps the reflection, kitten jewelery rack, Mom's old fiestaware, Lady Hitchcock painting (love you, Caset!) and my Japanese lanterns.

One day those small, meaningful things I'm bringing with me will expand into things that have to do with the life I'm about to begin, and they will be the things that I've come to know in other houses, houses in Santa Maria, in Seattle, in DC, in Michigan, in Boston or Memphis. Maybe sometime I'll have to give up something I love because it really belongs to someone else. Someday I'll live with a partner, someday I'll stay in one place for several years, someday I'll own a laptop and a sofa and a TV. Someday I'll imbue larger, more socioeconomically significant possessions with meaning.

But, for right now, I'm going to leap into the great unknown with some pretty trinkets and an air mattress. Making it up as I go along.

From far, from eve and morning / And yon twelve-winded sky / The stuff of life to knit me / Blew hither: here am I.

2008-07-15T10:39:00.001-07:00

The title passage is from "A Shropshire Lad" by A.E. Houseman, and it is quoted by Mr. Emerson in my all-time desert island Top Book, A Room With A View by E.M. Forster. I've read View so many times, probably at least fifteen, but never has this quote so resonated with me. Maybe it's because it's been awhile since I last cracked the spine of my Dover Thrift Edition, with a detailed lithograph of the Arno gracing the salmon cover, or maybe it's because my lifelong naturalistic worldview has suddenly become a political position, but I am finding more satisfaction in this read than ever before.

Other recent, and deeply satisfying, reads have been such favorites as Pride and Prejudice, To Kill a Mockingbird, Me Talk Pretty One Day, An Ideal Husband, Hedda Gabler, Take The Canolli, The View From Saturday, and The Phantom Tollbooth. All I need to do is dip into Harry Potter ([and the] Goblet of Fire, por supuesto) and this foray into my comfort books will be complete.

I have always been a re-reader. Three times out of five, I will opt to revisit something rather than open something new. The same is true, in fact, of most things in my life. I have a rotating schedule of three different bagels at Los Bagels. I only ever order Americanos, my tee shirt of choice for four years has been v-neck Hanes that come in a three pack, and I'd rather go back to Yosemite for the seventh time than visit any other National Park. Although in the past nine months I've tried and succeeded in reading mostly fresh books (lots of drama theory, random novels, the new book from a favorite author,) this summer has been spent with my nose deep into the well-worn editions that sit on my top shelf. I am fairly certain that my impending move from Humboldt County has precipitated this new (old) trend.

I'm sure that the amorphous nature of my future and the fear involved in moving to (*gulp*) SoCal makes these familiar tales so appealing right now. My life is about to get turned upside down and I don't know what to expect. Living on a shoestring budget is much less appealing when the lifestyle is far from bohemian, and the possibility of giving up my bicycle commute is downright depressing. While I'm giving away my clothes and packing up my shoe collection, readying myself for the 11 hour trek south, into the burning California hills and the land of eight lane freeways... it's nice to know that the Socialist Victorian sentiments of George and Mr. Emerson still have that special ring.

If little Lucy Honeychurch can throw off the social mores of her tightly buttoned Victorian upbringing and unabashedly kiss George Emerson on an Italian pensione balcony - with a view of the Arno - then perhaps there's still hope for me, too.

every day something can come along that will change your mind about a previously held notion. it's kind of a miracle.

2008-07-09T14:45:00.000-07:00

i no longer hate Elizabeth Banks because she, like me, has short, chubby fingers and short, unpainted nails. and she takes them to movie premieres! plus, she is fucking Seth Rogan, so i guess that makes her pretty awesome all around.

"That's stupid," said Moshi. "You've done a lot of stupid things, Treehorn, but that is the stupidest."

2008-07-03T12:36:00.000-07:00

omg i am now going to post about something veryvery far removed from the realm of boys and crushes and whatnot. children's books!

i love the books from my childhood like nothing else in this world. recently, while scouring the boxes in my closet for the YA Jerry Spinelli book Jason & Marceline i found a box that contains most of my favorite books from my tinier days (Jason & Marceline turned out to be on my bookshelf already, after i had looked through the boxes, put them back, and then looked through them again just to be sure).

Beatrix Potter, Now We Are Six, the Sam Pig series, Catwings, The Shrinking of Treehorn, Blueberries for Sal, Flat Stanley, Goodnight Moon, Ferdinand the Bull, Who Needs Donuts (When You've Got Love)?, the ancient set of Brer Rabbit-type books with names like The Tale of Unc' Billy Possum that I got from my grandparents' house, Whereyouwanttogoto, Sleeping Ugly, the Frog & Toad books, Sarah's Unicorn, and Mr. Mops & the Moon.

these books will never stop being awesome. i read Treehorn to Anna the other day and she loved it (also Edward Gorey couldn't not be awesome if he tried). his name is treehorn, and he is shrinking. and he has to jump up to reach the water bubbler and OMG i love the words "water bubbler". and, when i did a google image search to get this awesome picture, i found out that there are TWO OTHER treehorn books that i knew nothing about. so i must have them.

but, as always, i digress.

the television shows and movies i watched as a child have a similar nostalgia, but there is something about books. i can remember how i felt when i looked at a certain image. and i was always a voracious reader...i learned to read when i was four and haven't stopped since. i would get in trouble with my parents because i was always reading instead of doing chores or whatever. but seriously? books are awesome. and classic children's literature is no less great for it being intended for children. reading these books makes me feel like a kid again...in the good way.

i also have very visceral responses to things that i read...i remember certain foods characters eat(omg bread & milk, omg peppermint creams), the unnameable attraction of an illustration or a face. and i still love them, all these years later.

i realized when i was going through these boxes that i didn't keep nearly any of my shitty YA novels. that doesn't really surprise me, because i borrowed a lot of them from friends plus they were dime-a-dozen Pretty Girl is injured or dying or sad but meets a Wonderful Boy who takes care of her and maybe they "make love" or some shite but she probs dies in the end, prettily books. see Lurlene McDaniel. however, i've got the ones that count: The Egypt Game, From the Mixed-Up Files, Island of the Blue Dolphins. the one i do wish i had is Judy Blume's Summer Sisters, which i read in eighth grade in one day and it taught me about masturbation and girl-on-girl action and lots of sex. it is AWESOME. i'd like to see the chick from that beat up Margaret from that unnamed god-related fiasco of a book.

damnit with the digressing again. the thing that i realized when faced with the scarcity of YA books in my collection is this: i don't have that many because i was reading adult books in middle school. i don't want to sound like a pretentious asshole, but it's true. i was getting better sex in my awesome Charles de Lint urban mythological fantasy books or Margaret Atwood novels than in the fucking babysitter's club. and the writing was better! AND the YA novels that i did read i read when i was like, 9. so i totally just kind of skipped over that whole spectrum. 'tis weird, but i bet a lot of girls did it that way...we get all curious and shit.

that said, i did read a ton of shitty YA novels, i just wasn't smart enough to keep them around.

so here's to books! and all those Lurlene McDaniel novels i mourn because boy, would they be funny now.

"i think about kissing you all the time. it's like...the threat of nuclear war, you know...you get used to it."

2008-06-23T21:24:00.000-07:00

the above quote is taken from my favorite Dawson's Creek episode of all time, ep. 15 season 6, the one where Pacey and Joey get stuck in a K-Mart overnight. they argue about their past, and sex and whatnot and then he makes her a video apology where he calls himself an ass and gives her pajamas and then they make nachos and play battleship and watch Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas and - wait for it - she shaves off his horrible goatee. it is the most romantic scene in the history of the show, and when she wipes the shaving cream off and says "chin!" so excitedly and then he kisses her and then they have what is probably the most honest and positively communicative conversation in the history of the show. and it ends with joey not knowing what she wants (obvi) but kissing him anyway. i mean how could she resist he is so fucking AMAZING & BEAUTIFUL.

firstly, i'll mention that i KNOW i've been writing a lot about boys lately but i am not currently getting the booty so gimme a break.

second, i want to know where the props for Dawson's Creek are. i feel like it kind of fell off the radar and all anybody thinks about it anymore is that it was about teenagers who talked like adults and katie holmes was in it and isn't that weird? (it is. she displays more emotion on the show than i've seen in three years of tabloid photos.) but seriously, in terms of like, camp value, honest sex talk, awesome mackage scenes, and realistic confrontation of issues...DC fucking rocks. and although there are not really any drugs there are two, count 'em two main characters who are alcoholics in the 6th season. and they talk about/have sex all the time. but no one talks about it (except me and kate and my friend alia). everyone talks about Degrassi and Gossip Girl but those shows are shit compared to the Creek. i think it falls into a gap of shows that bloggers 27+ never watched and thus have no touchstone for. which is retarded because it totally captures the turn-of-the-millennium world that i totally grew up in.

ironically, i never watched the show when it originally aired (humboldt didn't get the WB until it became the CW), but became obsessed with it when i was living with grandparents in LA while my grandmother underwent treatment for cancer. i was still with my high school boyfriend, although i had graduated and he was still in school, and we were growing apart. below is a poem i wrote, and recently showed to him, about how the Creek (and Pacey Witter in particular) created disillusionment about my real-life relationship.

but before we get there...Pacey. although yeah, i totally think Joshua Jackson is adorbs and stuff during the first two seasons and Andie and whatnot...3rd season is when Pacey hits his peak. his tortured love and passion for Joey and the way he is so NOT Dawson in a perfect way, and his utter and unfailingly chivalrous devotion and when he plays Paul in Barefoot in the Park and doesn't care that he was awesome, only that she wasn't there...Pacey showed me what i wanted love to be. and when they got together, and eventually have sex...that was like how things were in the beginning for me, too. and although i did not get dumped on a prom boat i did eventually get dumped because i didn't have the balls (or the willing libido) to break it off myself. but we're friends now, so, you know, bygones.

continuing shortly with the wondrousness of Pacey, even his reason for ending it with Joey is valid: he needs to find his own path. and then they're friends and he gets together with Audrey and he grows the goatee and becomes a stockbroker and they break up and Audrey becomes an alcoholic and goes to rehab and Joey's angry-Southie-writer Eddie moves to California to "pursue his dream" and that brings us to the K-Mart, and the shaving of the beard, and the amazing fantasy that is those 43 minutes of television. loyal fans will know that in the 5-years-later series finale, Joey eventually ends up with Pacey. it is as it should be. he is the perfect boyfriend, and will be the perfect husband. and he is so hot he makes me tingle. all over.

below is the poem. i post it as a warning to those in happy relationships; Dawson's Creek may cause romantic dissatisfaction and unrealistic expectations towards your partner. also may lead to yearnings for unabashed public make-out sessions; gayness.

I Fell Out of Love With You While Watching Dawson's Creek

I fell out of love
with you
while watching Dawson's Creek
at my grandparents' condominium.

Two episodes
every morning,
Monday to Friday,
ten a.m. 'til noon.

Weekends were naught but
ennui as I waited
and pondered
who and who's sex was next,

wrote you lackluster emails
about life in LA (not Capeside),
about Mimi's chemo.
You played video games; at home it rained.

Later - the compulsion
grown so narcotic,
each show programmed
and recorded -

the babyfaced boy
gave her a wall,
a summer,
a sacrifice.

You gave me a wall.
But it wasn't for painting
or climbing and your sacrifice
wasn’t made willingly.

The VCR adds clicks and whirrs
to the hum of the air conditioning.
Outside is neither creek nor forest,
just canyons, coyotes, and a gasp of ocean.

*special bonus plug for the Creek, for those who made it this far: also in the 6th season, guest starring in the Audrey-riffic episode "Rock Bottom", is...SETH ROGAN.*

Judeophilia and other unconventional manifestations of attraction

2008-06-12T17:01:00.000-07:00

ah, the jews. there is just something about judaism (the culture as well as heritable physical characteristics) that just does it for me.

now here i am, two sentences in, and i can already hear my inner editor screaming about how i shouldn't write things like this, that it's not PC to fetishize races or cultures and whatnot. but you know what? this is how i feel, and it's all about LOVE, people, not exoticizing people or whatevs. my attraction for the jews is as unbiased as my un-attraction to red heads or men with mustaches or blonde girls who look the same as all the other blonde girls. but i digress.

in order to really explain my judeophilic tendencies, we have to go back to 1995. i was in fifth grade, and i met a new friend at school named Roxy. Her godmother, whose house we would sleep over at, was and is a highly spiritual, free-spirited Jewish woman. at her house i watched her make challah and sing prayers at sundown. i fell subconsciously in love with the daughter with the black coiling hair.

all this was happening at roughly the same time that my sister became very close with a boy who would later become her serious boyfriend. but she became very close with his parents and sister as well, and began celebrating their Jewish traditions.

my family is a religious compass: pointing in all directions. we were raised without any religion, although my sister and i both attended a semi-Quaker camp run by our cousins. my mother's beliefs very loosely resemble the Quakers, but my father is the most staunch atheist you're ever about to meet. he pretty much believes organized religion is one of the worst things ever.

me, well, when i was a kid i wanted to believe in gods and goddesses (lots of greek mythology and whatnot), but when i learned what "atheist" meant after reading it in a Calvin and Hobbes strip, i was on board. faith is for suckers, people who prefer blind numb comfort to reality. i still believe that, to a point.

but then i got older and started smoking pot and doing mushrooms and learning about energy and realized that there is something on this planet that connects us. and i don't think it's a single being and i don't think it's supernatural, i just think we can't see it. and as for dying, well, i don't know or care what happens when we die. i don't believe in heaven but i'm not convinced as to nothingness, either. i've had experiences with ghosts.

so, getting back to the jews. my sister and her boyfriend were together for three years, but even after they broke up she remained close with his family and involved in the Jewish community. it was after they broke up that she decided to begin the conversion process. it was long and challenging, but she's been a jew for a little over two years now and is definitely happy that way.

i guess all this is my way of explaining WHY i'm so connected to Judaism. even if i don't believe in god or organizing or anything, i can still appreciate the history and the spiritualism and the connection that religion affords you. and i like lighting candles with my sister.

i will say that most of my experience has been with liberal west coast judaism, which is at stark contrast to the conservative christian community we have here. orthodoxy and whatnot are pretty different. BUT i did stay with Cappy Shapiro the week before Passover on Long Island one year, and damn if her grandma's matzoh ball soup wasn't the best i've ever had.

to wrap it all together: it's not just the culture that attracts me. there is something about jews, who, mind you, come in all sorts of wonderful shapes and sizes, that more often than not will push my sexy buttons. i think that it has little to do with actual "jewish" characteristics and more to do with the fact that jewish men and ladies often look unconventional, which i like. all those Aryans all look the same.

also: THE HAIR. i will fully admit that i am completely envious of curly hair and just want to touch it. i'm like Ramona. i will never have hair like that and thus i am attracted to those who bring it into close proximity. *sigh*

to close: a beautiful, tear-welling, loins-warming quote, bringing us the best of Jason Segal AND Judaism, brought to you by Heeb Magazine:

" 'I can't blame anyone for not wanting to be with me. I'm a weird dude. I was writing a Dracula musical for puppets for two years before this movie - with no irony. Women thought I was crazy.' He shrugs, enormous and sad. It starts to rain, hard, and he offers me his coat. 'But what will happen to you?' I ask, as I put it on. 'I will blossom into a man.' And when we part I feel happy and a little sad, like when the lights come up on an Apatow movie. Because there's just something oddly moving about a man who is too tall, telling a stranger too much."

if that doesn't sum up the oddly balanced perfection of a good Jewish man (and writer - thanks Heeb!), i don't know what does. and if that didn't make you fall in love, just a little, than i have failed.

ok, now that THAT'S all out in the open i'm gonna go ogle young Apatow jews in Freaks & Geeks. and Linda Cardelini.

also

2008-06-03T20:48:00.001-07:00

O-BA-MA!

Game on.

click, and click now

2008-06-03T19:41:00.000-07:00

Lisa Simpson: Feminist Hero

I'm the guru god of ganja, ramashalanka lanka ravi shanka

2008-05-29T19:52:00.000-07:00

A conversation came up at work that reminded me of Barney. (From How I Met Your Mother.) We were talking about things we do but are ashamed to admit. Not bad things, but things that would put us in the realm of "uncool" or of "questionable taste." Or, especially, "childish" or "simple." These things are things that we secretly love to do but try hard to conceal the doing from others for fear of judgment. Everyone has these, few can come right our with them.

Why this reminded me of Barney is that he was "born without a Shame Gland", and instead has an extra Awesome Gland. As I am ever striving for Barney-levels of Awesomeness (183% awesome, I might note) I tried to think of the things I do and try to cover up.

Some examples are: reading Vogue and smoking Nat Sherman mint cigarettes (though those two are actually enjoyed in the company of LSL), reading celebrity gossip online, eating spaghetti with only butter, reading The Nanny Diaries for the fourth time instead of picking up new intellectual novel, listening to Britney's Toxic, taking Myspacey pictures of myself, wearing high heels around the house, and - oh yeah - BLOGGING.

Emily Gould's article - too lazy to link after making all the ones you're going to find at the bottom of the entry, check my recent post instead - about blogging kind of got my goat. It was like an overly confessional sob story that belonged on a blog. I get it, the interwub overwhelmed you. I feel sooo bad for you and your need to share every detail of your life. While I think the emphasis on the internet as positive reinforcement of the importance of your every word and as a community of friends and foes, I think she missed an important reason why others (specifically I) blog; it's the stupid details you can't share with people in conversation! No one wants to hear my and Lauren's ideas about how marijuana affects one's experiences at the carwash or Gil Grissom's function on CSI, even though we find all of this terribly fascinating and hilarious. On the blog, we can synthesize what in conversation is obnoxious rambling into a concise package (or a verbose one, as this is) with links all tied up nicely for reading - or not. This blog isn't really about readership. The point is getting all that drivel about movies and TV and drugs and rural life out there.

And speaking of TV/movie characters, that's another one of those embarrassing things I'm going to reveal.
Here is my list, in the style of Lauren's, of TV and Movie characters I'm totes crushin' on. My list varies from Lauren's in that the roles below are the performances that made me fall in love with the ACTOR. Which, while marginally less delusional than Lauren's undying love for fictional characters, is no more productive or closer to reality.

List of Actors I'd Totally Bone and the Roles That Made Me Want to Bone 'Em!

1. Jason Segel/manyJudd Apatow projects and Marshall on "How I Met Your Mother"
Some reviewer for the movie Forgetting Sarah Marshall, which he wrote, described him in his full frontal scene(s) as possessing "a long uncooked dinner roll of a torso." I would describe it as love. As Nick Andopolous on "Freaks & Geeks" or as pervy Jason in Knocked Up, Segel showcases his talent for awkward comedy. And even my mom knows about my awkwardness fetish. He's tall, funny, and wrote a Dracula puppet musical. He really showed his acting chops in Sarah Marshall, which naysayers would say isn't that hard since the character is basically Jason himself (more-famous girlfriend, Linda Cardellini, dumped him after he gained 20 pounds, he says, and the music and puppet musical featured in the film is Jason's own project) but have you ever tried playing yourself at your most vulnerable in a nationally released movie? Yeah, I didn't think so.

But the real, true reason I consider Jason my celebrity soulmate is this and only this.

2. Jemaine Clement/Jemaine on "Flight of the Conchords"
Although "Jemaine's features are too deep-set to be considered classically handsome," watching his Bowie impressions (in full costume) makes me want to sit on his face. Weird facial hair, glasses, and the snap-front cowboy shirts make him more awesome than Bret and his animal tees (though I have to give it up to Bret's angry dancing.) The spot-on comedy song stylings, the shoulder-shrugging, sexy-type dance moves, and kiwi accent steal my heart.

3. Phillip Seymour Hoffman/pretty much everything he's ever been in
When I was thirteen I watched Twister all the time because we taped it off NBC and we didn't have very many movies around the house. Even then, there was something about the chubby, ginger-haired character, Dusty Barnburner, and his "extreeeeeeme!" enthusiasm for the mysteries of nature. Since then, PSH's performances have been stellar and his beard (my beard fetish almost trumps my awkwardness fetish) is always resplendently scruffy. His crazy intelligence floors me. I know he's practically a geezer now, and not the epitome of physical perfection, and that he often plays weirdos, but it's not the characters that necessarily hold the allure, it's the man behind the chops (both acting and facial hair.) Talent trumps genetics, people, and you can stick that in your pipe and smoke it!

4. Jason Lee/Jeff Beebe in Almost Famous
The beard fetish weighs in again. Lauren recently described my tastes as favoring "ugly dirty things." And I can say that is true, as a general rule. Scruffy, grimy, dusty, old, broken. Jason Lee's voice on "Fever Dog," however, is hardly "broken" or "old" and his low-rise bell bottoms are definitely fresh, in all senses of the word. Either making out with Band-Aid Anna Paquin or being an ego maniacal band upstart, Lee's performance makes Beebe's sparse and snappy role seem bigger and more important than it's written to be. And unlike in other movies, that is a good thing. Honorable Mention to the oily, toothy demon in Dogma, who made pure evil look dead sexy.

5. Ellen Page/Juno McGuff in Juno
The layered sweaters. The art indie kid room decor. The hamburger phone. All good things. But I have to say that I fell, and fell hard, for E-Page while the opening credits slowly faded from illustration to live action. Her brisk steps in those slim, loose jeans sent my gaydar a buzzing. More swoontastic are her mannerisms in this scene. Watch Ellen's hands in this clip and just try to tell me the girl ain't that way. Post-Juno, E-Page rocked the press circuit, with awesome appearances on Letterman, where she talked about the ghost of a dead hooker who inhabits her new house, and sweet-ass red carpet duds. I want to wrap my legs around her in friendship... and maybe more.

6. Will Arnett/G.O.B. "Gob" Bluth
Others are creeped out. I am enticed. In fact, I have not been motivated to use the word "enticing" to describe sexy dudes since high school, but for Will Arnett I make an exception. Homeboy is easy on the eyes AND the funny bone. In fact, I'd like him to funny bone ME, if you know what I mean. And I think you do. The man is crazy talented, was on maybe the best show ever created, and now is unafraid to make himself look eerily similar to the douchey characters he plays, in ads for the almost-as-stellar show that may just redeem MTV for me, Human Giant. Though I doubt that vicious-looking sex toy could knock up Amy Poehler, so I'm pretty sure they have normal sex some of the time. Or, you know, at least once.

Extra props to: Kal Penn/Kumar, Katee Sackhoff/Starbuck on Battelstar Galactica, Sacha Baron Cohen/Ali G and Pirelli from Sweeney Todd, Michael Showalter/We Hot American Summer and Stella, and (beard alert!) Danny Masterson/Hyde from That 70's Show.

2008-05-29T15:05:00.000-07:00

Blogging is CRAZY!

when girls drop by for the summer

2008-05-16T18:50:00.000-07:00

it is too fucking hot to really do anything, as evidenced by the line of sweat between my belly and my underwear that is there simply because i am sitting in an upright position. however, i have been wearing my black bra and panties (what a weird word, panties. they're like, tiny pants.) since i took off my dress to clean the shower about six hours ago and realized that there was really no reason to put it back on.

i look damn hot in this bra and panties. if i were 5'11" instead of >5'1", i could be america's next plus size model. so fuck off to all the magazines telling me i need to lose weight for swimsuit season...what i really need to do is buy a new fucking swimsuit since i saw my current one (from target two summers ago) on that terrible dallas cowboys cheerleaders reality show on vh1.

this post is mostly meaningless except for now i have to put my dress back on to go out to dinner at P.F. Changs with the padres, who just arrived in the east bay. good thing i LOVE P.F. Changs.

girl powah

2008-05-09T17:42:00.000-07:00

This is in response to this series of posts by Handy, titled "On the sexes, friends, and values..." I have a lot to say and Blogger's comments are far too short for my verbosity.

Okay, so here's the thing:

I think you're wrong.

Or, at least - though more harshly - I think the girls you know kind of suck.

Because what you're talking about is a conflict of values, and the ensuing relationship problems it causes. Speaking from my own experience (mostly populated with girl friends, with a few awesome select male friends that let me escape from all the girly crap I hate) I do not get close with girls who have different values than me. This, of course, does not mean that we don't disagree, but in general I gravitate toward people who value humor, honesty, and diversity.

I do not make friends with girls who, say, spend an hour on their makeup every morning.

Case in point: I was recently sitting on the quad with a friend of mine and discussing a conversation I overheard in the bathroom. Two girls were comparing their morning schedules and they both woke up between 5 and 5:30 in the MORNING to get up and prepare for their 8am classes.

I would NEVER be friends with these girls, and you do not see them befriending me, who schleps to school at 7:55am in PJ's and unwashed hair.

I think what you're talking about is actually two different conflicts.

1) Girls often try too hard to relate to each other because they are less comfortable just existing as acquaintences. For example, if two strangers become roommates out of convenience, and if the first night that one of them goes out Girl A neglects to invite Girl B to the gathering, Girl B is likely to be a little hurt that she was not included because of being conditioned to believe that Girl Bonding is Next To Godliness. (See: Sex and the City.) Women either have a tendency to force closeness, or feel forced into closeness. This, of course, is a grand generalization, but one that is true for maybe 75% of female populations. (Made-up statistic alert!)

2) The other conflict you may be observing is a reluctance to accept change in a friend. Currently, most of my friends abhor the idea of babies, want careers for a good 10 years before marriage, and those who are not in relationships like to have casual sex. Luckily, I know my friends well enough that I know that these things might change. Things happen. Many girls see choices as a change in the person making them. If my friend gets pregnant and decides to keep it, that does not mean that she will devalue my choice to keep Plan B handy in case of any sexual indiscretions, or that I will take her choice to have a child as a statement that her choices are better or more valid than mine.

Some girls are not that understanding. And, I might say, I consider those girls to have *ahem* poor values. Girls who would take divergent choices as a sign of change in values can't see past the end of their noses, and girls who expect that just because you're both, say, in a play or a living situation means that you MUST become BFFs are also, in my opinion, a little insecure.

Lastly, I also take umbrage at the insinuation that friendships should be based on values. One of my male friends is very (though liberally) Catholic and headed to Notre Dame Divinity for graduate school. As a passionate Bright who speaks openly about the negative qualities of religion, under your values-based code of friendship, he and I are past due for a Great Schism. We find much common ground in our commitment to social progress and liberal thought, but at our cores he values family and a spiritual life and I value art and passion. I plan to be friends with this guy for years to come.

In conclusion, I see that the silly girlish conflicts you see around you are ridiculous and probably handled in a stereotypically girlish fashion, with a lot of talking (sometimes derogatorily referred to as "gossip") and passive-agression, but I do not think you need disparage all female friendship as being founded on something a flimsy as convenience or happenstance.

Happy Thing for a Foggy Monday

2008-05-05T13:46:00.000-07:00

This interview on Fecal Face made my day. Fecal Face is my new go-to for SF fantasies. Someday I'll reunite with that city, but not yet. Things like the interview with my new favorite artist, Alexis Mackenzie, make for some good interneting.

I am definitely in love with her collages. They're whimsical and a little bit morbid, which is right up my alley. Surrealism and nonchalance are also key for me. Plus, you can see the direct influence of dada, especially of Hannah Hoch, my favorite dadaist. (Someone tell me how to get the umlaut on a PC please!)

It makes me want to sit in the grass with some whiskey-spiked peach iced tea and read Gorey or The Awakening. Wearing a gingham dress, of course.

What Would Xenu Do?

2008-05-02T18:18:00.000-07:00

there was a pretty wonderful day, back in may 2005. i had just started working at the Minor Theatre in Arcata, which was an awesome job with sweet benefits like late, lazy hours, free soda and extra yeasty buttery popcorn, and, obvs, free movies. the movie that was playing in the main theater the first weekend i worked there was War of the Worlds. i watched the movie, late at night, in an employee screening, and actually enjoyed it. fuck dakota fanning, but i thought spielberg did a good job. sadly, that was the last tom cruise movie i ever watched that was untainted by the creepy crazy person that tom cruise is in real life.

now, i've never been a huge tom cruise fan (never seen a mission:impossible movie) but there are some, like jerry maguire, that i think are worthwhile movies. and now? totally worthless to watch. because now i can't see his face without thinking about what a fucking insane clown he is.

it's like this with other scientologist celebrities, too. it's kind of sad, really, but the truth is that there is absolutely no way i can respect anyone who thinks that a religion made up about 70 years ago by a rich megalomaniac is actually a religion. also, when money=a higher state of spiritual grace, you've got to know something's up. that goes for real religions too, but unlike scientology THEY have thousands of years of belief and scriptures that were not published in hardback. i'm not a fan of organized religion in general, but i can respect people's beliefs. belief in scientology to me kind of means that you're self-obsessed and pretty damn retarded.

ok, but seriously, i could give a crap about john travolta (didn't we all already know he was crazy?). but people like beck, will smith, giovanni ribisi, and jason dohring (to be fair, he's 2nd generation) make me sad. they are talented, and seem like smart people...but are apparently not.

anyway, for any haters who think that scientology is awesome, or for people who just want to know more about the normalized cult that's infesting the world, here's where you can find janet reitman's totally sweet and in-depth profile of scientology from rolling stone in 2006: http://www.rollingstone.com/politics/story/9363363/inside_scientology

that's all. i'm off to watch LOST, a show that is more awesome than 183 tom cruises jumping on couches and brainwashing joey potter could ever hope to be.

taking back the blog

2008-04-30T12:18:00.000-07:00

so i spend some time writing my thesis and i go away for ONE weekend and the blog has been taken over. since i'm slow on the uptake, i'm gonna respond to some of kate's posts and then do my own thing.

1. bisexuality. yeah, i'm bisexual. SO IS EVERYONE ELSE I KNOW. well, not really, but it feels like that sometimes. seriously, my official barney estimate is that 83 % of kids who grow up in arcata end up bisexual. more seriously, that number may be made up but it doesn't actually seem far off. here's the thing about bisexuality: it's kind of like un-sexuality, like an un-birthday. if an un-birthday is any day that is not your actual birthday, then un-sexuality is basically any sexuality you want. and your actual birthday, in sexuality terms, is like colin farrell: totally hot, rare and unavailable, and completely bad for you. maybe it's just me, but real birthdays tend to suck. anyway, my point is this: choice! when you don't limit who you might want to be with, you get a lot of choice. now, this doesn't help me because even though i want to sleep with girls, i'm not really a huge fan of talking to girls. girls either totally suck, or they're my friends. also i don't date lesbians because for the most part i've found they hate/envy/are afraid of bisexuals. so, if you're a cute bi chick who likes to smoke and doesn't do drama, let me know. ANYway, and i think kate said this, i'm all about bi pride and raising awareness of the vast existence of non-dichotomized sexualities. go LiLo! for serious if she doesn't start talking soon about how cock is dandy but pussy is awesome i'm gonna have to send her a strongly worded letter.

2. kinetics. yeah, that's me, the panda. i take pride in my kinetic past and it's been a thing that has influenced my family for a very long time. BUT i have been burned by the race over and over, i'm not sorry that hobart's dead, and it is hard for me to be involved because i both love and hate the race. i believe that the new organizers have bastardized what was once a simple, fun, non-profit event. i wholly support kate's entry into the race, and i'll probably ride along for a while, but thinking about what it is now and what it used to be really is hard for me. (sidebar: besides all that what is totally weird is that the guy i hooked up with during that 2004 race is now engaged. weeeird.)

3. i splurged and spent 10 bucks on the flight of the conchords album. it was totally worth it. my favorite line, from "a kiss is not a contract": they call it a fly 'cause it takes you up to heaven whoa-oa

4. i am totally supposed to be reading ted hugues "birthday letters" right now but am totes not. instead i am drinking sunny d straight from the jug and talking to my mom about buying shoes for graduation.

5. finally, i woke up this morning and needed to write this rant on having been single for 4 years because however much i love myself and being alone and whatnot i still like to find the good people and to have the good sex: ok at this point i don't really care who it is as long as i didn't know them when i was 15 and they're not some guy calling his number at me from the window of a green el camino in front of the liquor store when i have no makeup and flat hair and a big ugly sweatshirt because i want a guy with taste, man, but really those are my only issues everyone else let me know cause god mother fucking damn i need a boyfriend or a girlfriend or someone to get high and make out with on a regular basis and it feels like everyone i know is succeeding on that front while i'm just trying to graduate so in three weeks i'm gonna need someone to step up and want me kthanxbai.

sit on my face and tell me that you love me

2008-04-29T21:10:00.000-07:00

I heart Videogum.

Random non-news from the internet? Check!
Hating on (but secretly devouring) bad TV shows? Check!
Links to YouTube? Check!
Fuckable funny dudes with false vlogs? Check!

Online blogging feature that mimics my friendships?

Check and check!

This week they dissect the merits and de-merits of universal douche, Jimmy Fallon. I have ALWAYS hated Fallon, especially for his tendency to laugh whenever Horatio Sans would inhale while within the vicinity of Rockefeller Plaza. And the joke that was Weekend Update. Tina Fey pwned him.

Check out the Jimmy Fallon hate at the link above. You know, cause reading your own opinions on the internet is validating.

K-k-Kinetics!

2008-04-28T12:11:00.000-07:00

My brother and I are attempting the Kinetic Sculpture Race this year. I have a very different relationship to the race than Lauren, whose family has raced many a sculpture, in more than just the Arcata Race, too! She'll have to offer her perspective later.

It's my last year in Humboldt County, and I've been watching the race since we moved here. My little bro, Matt, my dad and my childhood best friend Andrew would arrive at the Arcata Plaza, the starting line of the race, two and a half hours before the noon whistle, which is the signal to start. We would nab a place in front the Jacoby Storehouse and would take turns watching the spot while the others would circulate the plaza checking out the machines and, as we got older, sipping coffee. When the brake tests would start, we'd all convene to watch the careening sculptures. By the time the noon whistle goes off, the Plaza is packed, but we always had the best spot, and could watch the sculptures lap the Plaza three times before watching them continue down 8th Street out to the dunes. Some years we'd follow them to Dead Man's Drop, a harrowing dune cliff at the end of a long trek on the sand. Some years we'd go home and meet up with the race again on Sunday, to watch the machines slowly paddle through Humboldt Bay. Two years we didn't make it to the race at all, for Mom and Dad took us to San Francisco those years to catch a Giants game. Those Memorial Day weekends were incomplete without Kinetics, at least for me.

It's been a fixture of my life in Humboldt, and now, on the eve of my departure, I'm finally partaking in the glory. It's pretty difficult, but I am so ready for the challenge. Lauren's parents are generously renting us their latest machine, that Lauren most recently raced with her dad in 2004.

There's Lauren in back. (Hope she doesn't hate me for posting this.)

We have transformed the garage into a baby kinetic workshop, and I can't seem to get the chain grease out of my nail beds. But let me tell you, it feels great!

Check out the machine!

Matt had to take the back pad off of the front seat to be able to pedal comfortably enough for short rides.

Rear drive train.

Dad taped a flashlight to the front so we could ride during dusk.

Tune-ups and tests continue on the machine. We have all four drive trains working smoothly thanks to diligent lubing of the chains, and Matt and I have taken several short rides in the bottoms. Our main concern in terms of mechanics is getting the seats to a proper location for pedaling. The former racers of the machine were on the petite side, and Matt and I both sport long inseams. The current seating situation has both of us worrying about our knees. Luckily, some creative solutions have been explored and over the course of this week we're going to do a full seating overhaul.

Also this week, Dad is going to hit up Arcata Salvage for a steel bike frame so taht we can replace the rear non-drive side dropout. We're still looking everywhere for one, but a nice guy at Adventure's Edge (awesome outdoor store) is putting in some calls on our behalf. You can see the old dropout below:

Not a bad weld, for an emergency fix. Lauren's dad had to pull her and the whole rear chassis over the Samoa Bridges to finish the Saturday leg of the race after the dropout broke on the sand. What a beast! Matt is also going to tighten up the currently squishy brakes, and do some maintenance on the axles. We're rolling along.

Art has yet to begin. We have been struggling with design ideas, but a suggestion from one of our team of sponsors really struck me: "Priscilla, Queen of the Quagmire" after the classic Australian drag movie, "The Adventures of Priscilla Queen of the Desert" and as an homage to Kinetic Founder Hobart Brown's last sculpture, The Quagmire Queen. If you are unfamiliar with Priscilla, you can check out this YouTube video.

The movie's iconic image is that of the silver and lavender tour bus, christened Priscilla, cruising through the desert with one of the queens in a gigantic silver getup with a huge mylar cape/flag streaming behind the bus. The shape of the bus, as well as the Priscilla nameplate and mylar streamer, would be easy to recreate as our sculpture and is recognizable enough to have a significant impact.

I'm getting in mad good shape. Matt and took a ride yesterday on The Hammond Coastal Trail and kept going past Clam Beach all the way to Crannell Road. We're going to work up to biking to Trinidad and then to Patrick's Point State Park. My bike is currently in need of a new rear wheel, so I used Dad's hybrid bike, and whoa was it crunchy. My right hip is still bad from a drunk injury, so I abstained from getting up on the pedals for hills and instead just downshifted like a madwoman and kept on pedalling. I was totally pooped at the end, but not as much as Matt who's ROCKING his fixie up all the hills and right down the other side. He's now a cycling addict for real.

This week we're going to nail down our sponsors and work on art! Bribes are still up in the air (we're going to need about 200 small bribes for race officials and several larger ones for the judges.) I'm thinking small sparkly buses on pins and necklaces.

For the glory,
K

Can't. Stop. The blogging.

2008-04-25T14:48:00.001-07:00

While printing things in the computer lab, I found someone else's bibliography page. "Works Sited" it says at the top.

I hate my school. Please get me out of here.
Does anyone have access to the De Lorean? I can pay you in weed.

25 Things I May Already Have Mastered

2008-04-25T14:06:00.000-07:00

Jezebel, Jezebel. What did I do on the internetbefore I discovered you?

Based on Esquire Magazine's "75 Skills Every Man Should Master," the talented Moe Tkacik has assembled a list of 25 Things Women Should Learn To Do Already.

Below, some of the things I'm pretty sure I have down:

Assemble furniture.
Ikea would not sell $20 billion worth of furniture every year if putting it together was really that hard. It's a pain in the ass, sure. Your ancestors got their water from wells.

Get off.
It has never been easier. There are vibrators at CVS. Porn is an ill-advised Google Image Search away. And really, we all need sex. If you masturbate enough, you'll only seek out casual sex for self-affirmation. And knowing you are doing that will make it a lot easier to handle rejection!

Be alone.
If you're bored, you may be on some level boring. Of course, we all are. Why do you want to hang out with your boring friends anyway? There are a lot of unboring people who have dedicated their lives to making books and movies and videogames to keep you happy.

Have a sincere intellectual conversation with a fellow female.
Talk about post-structuralism, not in the context of The Hills. Talk about the war with someone you aren't trying to fuck. It's kind of thrilling what happens when two people who are biologically predisposed to listen to one another exchange ideas.

Tell the truth.
I can't make it tonight. I have a date. I'm interested in your ex-boyfriend. When you cheated on your husband it really disturbed me. You should maybe look into taking responsibility for your actions. "I would like to put a hit out on your therapist." I know, it's not easy. But isn't that kind of sad?

There are some things on Moe's list that I cannot, and possibly will never be able to do. Chop vegetables like Penelope Cruz in Volver, for instance. Apply makeup without a mirror. Get hit on politely. But do I really want to be able to do these things? In the area of womanly arts, I can knit a hat or scarf in the time it takes to watch Harold & Kumar (faster if I'm stoned.) I can get ready to leave the house in under three minutes, partly because I often don't wear any makeup at all. And, frankly, until guys either (a) use better pickup lines or (b) convince me that they are interested in something other than staring at the tits of the friend sitting next to me, I reserve the right to laugh in their face when they ask what I'm drinking while their right eye tries to find my girlfriend's nipples. Mine are right down here, fellas!

The things on the list I DO do I hold very valuable. For example, have sincere intellectual conversations with people. Usually interspersed with references to The Hills or Rock of Love 2, but I did just finish a pretty decent conversation about Steinbeck that also involved the complexities of rolling a joint with a sheaf of mini-bible paper. I try to lay all my cards on the table, I am never in want of an orgasm, and I can use a hand held drill with dexterity. Being alone? Well, I am PROFESH at that.

What I'm wondering is whether this makes me a modern, self-sufficient woman? I mean, where do we get these ideas? The new standards of womanity used to run more along the lines of making the perfect pie-crust and knowing how to press pleats. Now, the checklist seems just as strident (You don't own a vibrator?! You can't drive a stick shift?! You don't SHAVE your VAGINA?!) with the new sexually liberated paradigm. Maybe I don't want to learn to drive a stick. (I actually do, but roll with me here.) If a girl doesn't know how to reboot her hard drive, change a tire, or use a skill saw, I don't freaking care! (The masturbation thing is different, every girl should master that one.) What I think is key in this discussion is not holding skills, or the lack thereof, against a person. While I know some dudes get crap for not changing their own oil, there are plenty of men who are well-respected by their peers without some of the "essential" skills. What I don't want is for women to fall into the trap of holding each other up to these new mandates.

There is a reason AAA exists. Either Girlfriend should learn to use her car's jack and tire iron, or Girlfriend should make sure she's got the best AAA plan for her needs. Just as long as she's not relying on her boyfriend to do the manual labor, or her parents to set up and pay for the AAA membership, I'd call her self-sufficient, and leave it at that.

seriously, don't i look like ANYONE else?

2008-04-24T23:52:00.000-07:00

my grandmother (who is now dead) told me at our favorite LA japanese restaurant that when describing me to her bridge club, said, "she looks like jenna bush."

maybe i'm not so upset about that anymore: http://jezebel.com/383813/can-jenna-bush-be-a-beacon-to-kids-who-hate-their-parents-politics

crispy

2008-04-24T19:15:00.000-07:00

New format, was sick of the old one. This one isn't doing it for me either.
I need better HTML skillz.

On 30 Rock, Tracy got Kenneth addicted to espresso, and Kenneth got all hopped up on caffeine. And then Kenneth uttered the best, most truthful statement uttered on primetime TV: "I love how [coffee] makes me feel. It's like my heart is trying to hug my brain!"

Now, Lauren had quoted me this line recently, but the true majesty of it comes in the way Ken is gripping the oversied NBC peacock mug and the way his southern accent, soft as the sheen on his hair, caresses the U sound on "hug."

Check it out on NBC.com!

I U She Together

2008-04-22T19:52:00.000-07:00

Something Lauren and I have in common is our unabashed vehement bisexuality. Being seen as straight or gay is uncomfortable, and is an incomplete representation of who we, separately, are at our cores. We're not mad activists or members of a large bisexual community - although the majority of our friends tend to swing both ways - but we do our part by staying honest and relatively visible.

Lindsay Lohan's recent attachment to hot Ronson sibling, Samantha, has both Lauren and I clamoring for LiLo to come out as bisexual. This Page Six item has me even more impatient for La Lohan to claim her obviously fluid sexuality.

It would be so good to see a young celebrity who throws off the confining labels of gay and straight, and claims the "grey area" of bisexuality. It's always surprising to me how few people embrace this box-free label, and I think the no-holds-barred attitude of the snatch-flashing, post-AA, post-anorexic, slutty starlet Lohan makes her the perfect pioneer. Already completely unapologetic, her many societal faux pas will overshadow the new insights into her sexuality, and any tabloid reaction will be minimized by her next coked out photos, or their concern that she is still downing vodka tonics after completing rehab. The general cacophony surrounding LiLo will not diminish after her coming out, and would, if anything, simply increase in intensity and volume. There is no real acting career to ruin, and her life, as far as I can tell, could continue on its present course. The only difference being the existence of an out bisexual in the popular culture.

Of course, Lindsay Lohan is hardly regarded as an upstanding young lady, and any coming out might be labeled symptomatic of the general turmoil surrounding her life. So, I'd like to take this opportunity to invite any famous closeted young lady bisexuals to come on out of the closet and throw off their inauthenic public identities. I promise, the water's fine.

* * *

I'm at home with the folks tonight, doing some Kinetic triage. Dad is watching PBS, where NOVA is running a show called "Car of the Future." All automotive mechanics and corrupt new fuel research aside, the show is amazing because it is following Click and Clack the Tappet brothers (also known as Tom and Ray Magliozzi) from NPR's wildly popular show, Car Talk, around the world of automotive developments. As what my friends and I refer to as an NPR Baby (children who from birth were strapped in their car seats with their heads next to a speaker blaring NPR) I have heard Tom and Ray's Boston accents every Saturday since I can remember. I have never one seen a video, or even a picture, of the guys.

It is BEYOND bizarre to hear those familiar voices coming out of these two strange men who look nothing like each other, or the images I had formulated in my head before I could read Hop on Pop.

i want you (she's so heavy)

2008-04-22T13:32:00.001-07:00

i'll be expanding this later to talk about my hopeless habit of falling in love with fictional television characters, but right now all i need to say is this:

both seth rogan and jason dohring are with women named Lauren. jason dohring is married! now, i just don't think it's fair. my name is lauren, i am indubitably awesome, and i just KNOW if i could meet one of the zillion people i have the hots for, they would want me back. alas, i do not want to live in LA and i don't want to hook up with just any celebrity, i want to hook up with a mildly obscure, hopefully wealthy and/or tormented interesting guy.

just for fun, because i'm procrastinating, here's a list of my top ten fictional television men, the ones who haunt my dreams at night. it's really these guys i want to hook up with...i'm not sure how into actual actors i would be.

1. Charlie Pace / Hugo Reyes, LOST. they go together because they are both too goddamn hot to separate, plus they're best friends, plus charlie's dead so i've gotta get my crazy island sugar somewhere. runner up: James Ford/Sawyer. i love the bad boys who get treated so mean by the women they love.

2. speaking of that, Logan Echolls (Veronica Mars) is like, up there. he is SO tortured and abused and sad and covers it all up with this douchebag mask that totally falls off when he falls in love with veronica. it's awesome. and he's hot, and like, the best maker-outer.

3. Pacey Witter, Dawson's Creek. Pacey almost gets put in the same section as Logan, cause they're kind of like the same person. but Pacey is just a little more ideal; he's not always getting arrested and his bad-boy tendencies are totally and completely outweighed by his romanticism, his sexiness, his humor, and his willingness to do anything for love. a true gallant.

4. Michael/George Michael Bluth, Arrested Development. although i am way more into michael cera now that he's not 14, but George Michael is so awkward that it's hot ("i'm gonna need it when i'm on my hog and need to go into a controlled slide"). and Michael Bluth, well, i could eat jason bateman with a spoon, but also he's hilarious AND he's an asshole, so plus and plus ("that's not a volv-O"). bonus: get to hang out with Gob/Maeby.

5. Chandler Bing, Friends. what can i say about Chander? he's the original unconventional crush. could he BE any cuter?

6. Dr. Joel Fleischman, Northern Exposure. OMG sexy jew man. seriously, not only is the sexual tension that builds between him and maggie so HOT and well done, but dr. fleischman is seriously smokin'. and it JUST GETS BETTER in the last season when he runs away to live with the indians and becomes sexy rugged mountain joel. bonus: rob morrow is STILL SO HOT, he has his own sexy-jew crime show, where viewers get the extra hot bonus of david krumholtz as his brother.

7. Jim Halpert, The Office. this needs no explaining. in fact, the way most women feel about Jim is the way i feel about most men on television. he is adorable, funny, charming, and GETS YOU. he is like no other man i've ever met who works in an office.

8. Nate Fisher/Claire Fisher, Six Feet Under. They are both equally hot. Nate is existentially tormented, Claire does a lot of drugs and art and is simply fucking hot. and they're around death all the time. wicked hot, dude.

9. Ken Miller, Freaks and Geeks. seth rogan pretending to be angry in the 80's while totally rocking the jew fro + sideburns = irresistible. the fact that Ken finds out his girlfriend was intersex and becomes awesomely okay with it? so crazily awesome. also, he hangs out with hella cool people, also, the fact that it's an apatow project gives me leave to add Ron Garner (Undeclared) to the list. Not as cool, but wears glasses and fucks Busy Phillips. WORD.

10. Barney Stinson, How I Met Your Mother. Barney is like, a man version of me. Barney is like, the guy that i want to fuck and never have to hear from again. Also, i could call him Swarley and it would be hilarious. and once he realized i wasn't lame, then we could suit up together and go pick up chicks and smoke cigars. it would be LEGEN (wait for it) DARY. because barney. is. 183 % awesome, and that's what we're all about.

honorable mentions: Bret McKenzie, Flight of the Conchords; Conrad Shepard, Weeds; Detective Elliot Stabler, Law & Order: SVU; Berton Guster, Psych; Chuck Bass, Gossip Girl; Jack Berger, Sex and the City.

don't sweat the technique

2008-04-22T00:13:00.000-07:00

In my recent flurry of TV watching, substance ingesting, and homework procrastinating (Senioritis is upon me, and oooh this baby is bad) I have spent some time thinking about summer reading. Summer is where I get a lot of my reading for the year in, because it's nice outside and I don't have school. Duh, like the definition of summer. Consequently, I try to relax from my usual schedule of overcommitment by doing hardly anything at all. (I usually fail.) But I do spend a lot of my afternoons in a lawn chair on the patio at my parents house, going through two books a week. Sometimes one a day. I don't move around a lot.

In anticipation of that lovely inertia, I've been sussing out my reading priorities. Obviously, plays make up a long section of my "To Read" stack. I mean, I own Chekhov's complete works but I've only made it through the excessively produced Three Sisters and The Cherry Orchard. I have a lot of Pinter that I've been putting off plus like at least (at least) one Stanislavsky. But I want some fiction too, and staying away from the works of Ian McEwan is going to be difficult. He's a fantastic writer with the attention to the profound minutiae of existence that I find captivating. But he's sooo popular right now. The iconoclast in me says to wait. But Saturday calls to me from my shelf...

And all of this related to the fact that I'm kind of looking to get laid this summer. And, while summer Humboldt people aren't the bookish types, my reading list always presents problems in the sex department. At least, theoretically. The NY times ran an article about Books as Deal-Breakers. Although it was assholey and too too NY hipster wannabe intelligentsia, it got me thinking about my deal breakers, or what someone else might see as a deal breaker with me. Now, I've never had to dump someone because of their proclivity for Michael Crichton, but I do have to save my book chats for friends, not lovers. Or even objects of interest. I'm a disaster when it comes to expressing taste in anything, but especially in books. I don't connoisseur shit, like wine or coffee or books or movies or music. I don't like tawdry crap, but I'm not someone who actually reads Proust. I'm smart but I'm not a practicing intellectual. I read The New Yorker, but I'm not pretentious about it. (I read the movie reviews first, then the theatre, then music, then About Town, then the comedy essay, then the profiles, and the fiction and news stories come last. If at all.) I want to be with someone who reads, but I don't want to talk about reading with someone, usually because I'm on my fiftieth time through Peter Pan instead of something smarter. What's awful about the Peter Pan admission is that the dude will have one of two reactions. Either he thinks I'm stupid for not reading something else (he inevitably is working his way through some Bukowski or - worse! - Hemingway... ugh) OR he's never read Peter Pan and will then confess that he did not know that the Disney movie was even based on a book.

Moe says it best, I suppose.
I'm not sure I should care that much, because I wouldn't want someone to care too much about my reading choices. But eventually everyone has to come to some sort of compatibility in that arena. How long can you maintain your ignorance? And wouldn't the sex be better anyway if you knew your partner would pick up Marquez instead of Maxim or Marie Claire?

Also on Jezebel...
Eight Ways Jesus Would Have Been The Worst Boyfriend Ever.
An excerpt:

Hump (Mark 14:3)

We use the term "hook-up." The Old Testament crowd would "come unto a woman and know her". Sometimes men receive "full-service massages." Jesus, the day before his imprisonment (HELLO), lets a New Testament lady "pour an ointment of spikenard on his head" and then "wash his feet". To each generation, its own idioms for wanton coitus. As shocking as it may be, Jesus got down. Maybe he didn't try "just the tip", but he definitely received a "full-release" massage. One of his parables was about spilling seeds! Those seeds fell on the ground, the rocks, the thorn-bushes. It was all over the place. You might try to work in "anoint my head" the next time you're "showing a girl your records". Remember, even with a rub-n-tug, Jesus performed miracles, as he didn't have to pay a Cesarean dime for these services.

Oh, Jesus. You cad, you.

I'm so glad I read the Bible in high school. I know first hand that it's not the hot shit piece of theology that everyone thinks it is.
It's just cold diarrhea.

And last thought for the night...
Death Cab for Cutie played HSU. They worked very hard and sounded great. Candid and nice to the audience, and very appreciative of the Monday night enthusiasm. Makes me want to pick up their albums again, since I couldn't help but sing along to a couple of tunes.
It'll be like old friends.

a fortunate event

2008-04-21T01:55:00.000-07:00

Below is a video of Daniel Handler, a writer high in my esteem, who pens, among books for grownups, the "children's" books A Series of Unfortunate Events. I find the series both funny and tragic, with a keenly-written edge of irony and infinitely helpful definitions included in the narrative text so that the reader can increase their vocabulary. I find the man to be simply brilliant and share my copies of the 13-tome series with anyone under the age of 14, and all those over the age of 14 who will listen. Imagine then my joy in finding he is an Obama supporter.

I love that he's a West Coaster, a staunch Bay Area loyalist (you can also peep his graduation speech at the Lowell High Class of 1988 Commencement, it's priceless) and that he expresses what I have felt growing up in a liberal bastion, severed from what the rest of the country considers to be the whole country.

Here's an excerpt from the 8th book in the Unfortunate Events series, The Hostile Hospital, that shows more of his awesomeness:

Of all of the ridiculous expressions people use - and people use a great many ridiculous expressions - one of the most ridiculous is "No news is good news." "No news is good news" simply means that if you don't hear from someone, everything is probably fine, and you can see at once why this expression makes such little sense, because everything being fine is one of the many, many reasons why someone many not contact you. Perhaps they are tied up. Maybe they are surrounded by fierce weasels, or perhaps they are wedged tightly between two refrigerators and cannot get themselves out. The expression might well be changed to "No news is bad news," except that people may not be able to contact you because they have just been crowned king or are competing in a gymnastics tournament. The point is that there is no way to know why someone has not contacted you, until they contact you and explain themselves. For this reason, the sensible expression would be "No news is no news," except that it is so obvious it is hardly an expression at all.

Obvious or not, it is the proper way to describe what happened to the Baudelaires after they sent the desperate telegram to Mr. Poe.

The books follow the sad adventures of the three Baudelaire orphans, who have a large fortune left in their names by their parents, who perished in a terrible fire while the children were at the beach. A nasty fellow named Count Olaf is trying to get his hands on the fortune, while their hapless guardian Mr. Poe tries to keep things together but mostly fails. Nothing pleasant happens, many people die, and we are warned on the very first page, as well as prominently on the dust jacket, to read another book if we wish to remain in a good mood.

Fabulous children's reading, I say.
It is also great for college students to read at the beach, grownups to read before bed, and fans of language to read at any time.

rainy day insights

2008-03-28T13:59:00.000-07:00

hello, blog. my issue, i've found, with posting, is that while i often come up with witty things to say, i'm usually too high to want to post them on the blog. so, while i do have an eventual topic of discussion, bear with me for a little while.

i'm writing while waiting for "pot psychology" to load. kate and i often have tried/talked about trying to record our conversations. the problem is that not everything we say is brilliant or hilarious and in between gems like "i'll shampoo your mom's beard" comes a lot of meandering nonsense. i think pot psych really works because it has a focus and like, topics to start from. that's pretty key, as evidenced from our one semi-successful "have your cake and eat it, too" convo. also, editing is key.

speaking of media and stoners, last night we were chillin in my car, chantal, parked in the arcata bottoms smoking spliffs and singing along to queen and tenacious d. i had the thought that i had not taken any pictures in a long time and the hazy backseat full of friends should be commemorated. so i asked kate to take out the camera because she is like, a million times better at taking pictures than i am. i proved to be too high to be photogenic, and then the people in the backseat got freaked out and did not want their pictures taken. is this weird? or were we just too damn baked? probs the latter.

so yesterday, after a week of watching house (sexy doctorman), i went back and watched the episode of CSI that followed (previously reviewed) Sounds of Silence. i wasn't quite as stoned, so i was really able to watch out for the preachy message-implanting. (addendum: i really get a kick out of tv that tries to be moralizing and just ends up being ridic. CSI is kind of a weird venue; for really hilarious hypocritical sex-drugs-& drinking lessons, one should always turn to Dawson's Creek.) so this new CSI was called "Justice is Served". my expectations were high.

i'm not gonna go into the whole thing, except to say that grissom's case was about a woman who kills joggers with her giant attack dogs and then eats their organs because she suffers from porphyria and has to have human blood so her skin doesn't rot off. basically she's a vampire. oh, and she's a nutritionist and makes a "protein shake" full of blood (powdered) right in front of grissom. but this isn't about grissom.

catherine willows sucks. her hair sucks, her cheekbones suck, her "i used to be a stripper but then i got educated and now i'm awesome but i have no time for my daughter" backstory sucks. all of these things suck especially hard in this episode, wherin a little girl has been found dead in a "tunnel of love" carnival ride. catherine freaks out and immediately blames the druggie sex-offender carnie who, in all fairness, is pretty easy to blame. for the whole episode she goes on and on about how cruel he was to this little girl.

i figured out pretty early on that the mom did it (what good mother takes their daughter into a creepy dark tunnel of love ride?). while watching a lot of crime shows it is easy to get an instinct about these things: the obvious candidate generally didn't do anything besides drugs, and the obscure character, the guy who got cleared from suspicion in the first five minutes, generally drowned their daughter in a carnival ride or stabbed three people on the street. so here's the thing: the mom did it! and after all of catherine's fucking parentally-motivated bitching and inculpating, she is wrong. she has to admit it to sara (mmm, sara), who knows that catherine has been hormonally whacked-out during the whole case, and then she gets to go tell the mom and arrest her, scornfully. catherine is at her best when she's scornful.

what does this tell us? after the PSA for deafness, the shitty writers on CSI (thanks, jerry bruckheimer) try to lead us down the same path, targeting the evilness of pedophiles and sexual abuse. which are evil (thanks, SVU), but wait! sex offenders are unfairly targeted by professional women with children - the ones to watch out for are single mothers who want to go on sexy vacations without a kid-anchor. conclusion: CSI has no moral compass. it rarely makes any sense or includes crimes that tend to abound in society. don't listen to what they tell you about how to treat deaf people, or women, or pedophiles, or vampires, because it will be contradictory and based in unreality. that's not to say to do the opposite (like, say, discriminating against deaf people or befriending vampire nutritionists), but really. shouldn't we all know by now not to believe everything we see on TV? of course we do. but man, this shit is funny.

i promise that's all i'll write about CSI for a while. someday in the future i'll wax poetic on the miniature killer, but i need some more House therapy first. Sidenote: is Greg House the Gil Grissom of medical shows? or is Grissom the Dr. House of crime shows? Discuss. (secret trick answer: they are both descended from Detective Robert Goran)

PS i was gonna write about britney but i have to go wash dishes AND it's britney. she can wait.

Ode to Caffeine

2008-03-28T11:35:00.000-07:00

Caffeine is my drug of choice. But, pretty exclusively in coffee form. I'm not one for energy drinks or weird fizzy concoctions or bull testicle extracts or Amazonian stimulants. Just give me the shade grown free trade shit. Dark and bitter, black or with cream, sometimes even with sugar! I loves me some java.

I love caffeine because it's a habit I can break. And I've done it, many times. Right now I'm in the phase where I drink one to three cups a week, at varying times. Today, I had a meeting with the investors in the Kinetic Sculpture that I'm doing with my brother and help from Lauren and her padres for the Kinetic Sculpture Race in May. So, a Red Eye at 7am. Tomorrow, it will be an Americano at 4pm. Sunday, 8pm for studying. There are other phases too. The "First Thing In The Morning" phase, the "For Dessert, Pre-Partying" phase, the "Iced Coffee on the Patio Cause It's Summer" phase.

The thing about coffee is that it's subtle. I don't get the jitters, I don't talk too fast or think too much. I just feel (and this is the most addicted thing to say) more ALIVE when I'm caffed up. I think clearly, and with more precision. I am more productive. I do better on tests. (p.s. Fuck college. Get me out of here.) I enjoy myself when I'm on caffeine, no matter the weather. And I feel more confident. It's not a high, but I definitely just described the positive reasons people have used to get me to try cocaine.

But I don't do cocaine. I prefer coffee. I can't imagine my life without the lovely addition of caffeine. It's useful, generally affordable (especially when you make it yourself with the excellent free trade stuff from the Co-op that costs ten bucks a bag), and downright delicious! Plus, you can be pretentious by ordering it in fancy ways, or you can slum it and drink Dunkin' Donuts. (But not here on the west coast.) It goes good with desserts and with cigarettes, with breakfast and as a snack! It's refreshing when iced in the summer, and cozy when piping hot in the winter. I like it on an empty stomach, cause it makes you poop, and I like it after a full meal... uh, cause it makes you poop. And don't even talk to me about decaf.

I could write a Dr. Seuss book about coffee, but it would probably not be good for children.

Caffeinated Coffee, you make my world go round.

gil grissom: fighting crime for the deaf

2008-03-14T21:10:00.000-07:00

so i'm waiting for kate to drive fast and come visit (she should be here in two hours) and after brewing three months worth of stems into a tasty, sticky tea and watching yet another cerebrally orgasmic episode of LOST (i love capitalizing it), i downloaded some 1st season episodes of CSI.

this was original old school CSI, not like new school David-Caruso-is-the-most-overly-dramatic-actor-on-television CSI miami. which can be fun to watch when you're drunk on a box of wine with your best friend, but seriously. the only redeeming quality was that it had rory cochrane who played sexy philosophizing lucas in empire records ("what's with today, today?). but they killed him off in the season 2 premiere! plus, his name was speedy or speedle or something equally lame. and if you thought i was talking about CSI new york, then you probably have no business reading this blog. (i will only comment on CSI NY to say that gary sinise was smart and dropped that project like it was hot, and that the guy who played tag, the guy from rachel's cougar phase on friends, has nick stokes job. and that's really all i know about it)

anyhow, i was watching CSI, or CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, as it was known before people knew what those letters stood for (i shouldn't make fun, because Navel NCIS committed a much worst crime by fronting the acronym with the word that the first letter stands for). god, i hope these parentheticals aren't getting annoying. i'm pretty baked and am, actually trying to get to a point before i forget what i'm talking about. but my tv reference genius won't shut the fuck up. suffice to say CSI, which takes place in las vegas, is awesome. superdramatic as well, but they back up the terrible writing with interesting characters and hot actors (minus marg helgenblaghnog...ick). and i do like solving puzzles, even if the dramatic stabbing reenactments and such gross me out. plus, the first season it's pretty low-budg and campy and grissom is like, a sex machine. and sara is so angry (and hot) (and gay).

back to grissom. this episode was called Sounds of Silence. before i start i should say that i have no problems with deaf people, i think it's a bummer they can't do drugs and listen to music, but i bet the tingles and the visuals are awesome. i could put some other qualifiers in here, and they would be true, but i somehow keep getting higher and everything i write looks weird. i just want to make my point and then eat my peanut butter-chocolate cookie twix and go back to watching CSI.

so this episode starts with someone running over a body in their car, and quickly turns into a PSA for deafness. and not a good one. a ridiculous farce of a moralizing tale. the dead guy was deaf. grissom goes to his mother's house, mother is sad. sara and warrick go visit the principal of her deaf school and are intolerant and sara is a bitch and is like "why did she kick us out of her office?" and grissom doesn't dignify it with a response, but proceeds to speak to the principal both aloud and in sign language, shocking the other csis (that's csi plural). he then gets very huffy about the case and reads some kid's brainwaves and stares at his tarantula and wears earplugs so he can experience the world of the deaf. so basically we find out, after a lot of ridiculous shit like head lice and florescent blue blood, that some underages punks killed this kid for his six pack. and cause they were angry at him cause he couldn't hear them yelling at him from his car. of course, neither of them tells this story; rather, grissom paints an elaborate picture somewhat connected by the evidence but sprinkled with emotive interpretations and whatnot. and as his melodic voice spins a tale much like his tarantula spins her web (i promise that is all the bad CSI writing i will attempt), it is dramatically reenacted for the viewers. i always wonder what the people in the original shot are doing during those reenactments.

ok, but this is all pretty boilerplate CSI, even if it is more heavy-handed than usual. but what killed me was the final scene, in like, the best way possible. shitty dramatic crime shows just like, totally do it for me sometimes, because they're so hard to take seriously. so grissom goes to visit the deaf principal lady with whom he connected so deeply. we learn his mother is/was deaf (and faithful viewers will know that grissom eventually gets the same disease and starts to lose his hearing but then gets magical ear surgery) and the lady says, "tell me about her. with your hands; they are a bit rusty." and so he starts talking and signing, and then stops talking, and there was like, thirty seconds where they're just having a conversation and you can't hear anything. which was awesome! it was the best part of the PSA-ness cause it wasn't like "everybody thinks deaf people are 2nd class citizens", it was like "hey, take a moment and think about not hearing anything and what that means."

BUT THEN the fucking writers had to ruin it by panning out from them on a bench to a fountain, and the last thing you hear after the nice contemplative silence is the trilling, bubbling sound of water falling. which to me felt like they needed to remind the people who can hear how nice it is! like, oh, that was interesting, but thank god it doesn't have to be like that all the time! and i'm not gonna say i'm not thankful for my hearing, but there's more than one way to live. which is actually something they say in the show.

i think the point i was trying to make was one that was critical of CSI, but the one i think i ended up emphasizing reveals that i am simply a crazy-ass sucker for sentimental shit. i didn't MIND the moralizing! do i think gil grissom is hilarious? yes. but do i actually smile at him on the screen sometimes. absolutely. especially like this. (chilllllaxin)

this shit should probably get deleted later, but it's taken me like, an hour. so that's one hour closer to kate's arrival. way to kill time with the useless meanderings of my tea-addled brain.

tim gunn, jesus, and the pink triceratops

2008-03-12T16:13:00.000-07:00

so, i think it is important to point out that tim gunn, everyone's favorite mentor/pristine gay man, brought up his favorite sport in an interview (obvi stolen from jezebel): "The only athletic activity Gunn did get into, and excel at, was swimming, which he loved since it was 'solitary and clean -- there is no sweating involved.' " this just happens to be my favorite thing about swimming - and although i'm not gonna put words in her mouth, after our conversation last night about how we both get gross and red from physical activity, i'm willing to bet - that it's one of kate's fave things about swimming, too. i also think it's safe to say that tim gunn also gets a severe case of red-face when he exercises. these things are only notable in that they bring us closer together to the only kind of "gunn" i'm down with. PS team sports suck. i wish i had some actual lung capacity so i was better at swimming. guess i'll have to deal with sporadic bike rides and sweaty red-face.

also, it gives me an excuse to mention that if we were superheroes, i would be a pink triceratops (the most awesome dinosaur evah), our golden friend joel would be jesus (because he IS jesus), and kate would be tim gunn, cause she does as good an impression as santino (and an even better impression of santino saying "what happened to andre?"). and our superhero team would kick the justice league's ass. probably.

fighting back against bullshit misconceptions, y'all

2008-03-10T21:49:00.000-07:00

so i'm gonna put myself out there. i get cold sores, which means i have oral herpes. although i do not like to use the word herpes, mostly because i dislike the word much like i dislike the words "hump" and "va-jay-jay", but also because it has connotations which, in our society, can be quite problematic.

and here's the shocker: i did not contract cold sores through some promiscuous sexual activity! however much of a slut i may be (or may have been, and i'm fully willing to claim my sluttiness) i have gotten a cold sore perhaps once a year ever since i was a tiny child. my mom gets them, which probably means i used the wrong chapstick at some point of my toddler life. it is not really a very big deal for me, besides the fact that they hurt and are kinda gross. but pimples hurt and are kinda gross, too, so whatevs. you deal with the shit your body throws at you. what sucks the most is that they're called cold sores for a good reason. you are most likely to get them when you are already sick and/or stressed out and your body does not have the power to fight off the virus. what sucks even more is feeling sick and shitty and unattractive and having to deal with people's incorrect perceptions of you.

another shocker: i did not transmit the virus to my boyfriend of three years (or anyone else)! because it's pretty easy to know when you're contagious - and unlike genital herpes, you cannot transmit the virus without a visible and/or tangible outbreak. so. while not being able to make out for a few days sucks, it's not that hard to not pass it on if you've got some self-control and some decent communication skills. some tips for those with the mouth herp: become aware of your contagion period, and refrain from kissing and sharing drinks/smokes for that time. and wash your hands a lot or use sanitizer. cause it is a virus, and we don't want other people to catch it.

here's the lame part: when i was in high school, it wasn't a big deal. sure, it sucked when i got one around prom time, but i didn't feel ashamed about it. now, it seems like, all of a sudden, there's all this this paranoia and discrimination and bullshit around (i'll say it one last time) oral herpes. so much so that when i get a cold sore nowadays, i try not to leave the house as much as possible lest someone brand me as a whoring disease vector. this has got to stop.

i know a fair amount of people who get cold sores, and i see plenty of commercials for herpecin-whatever, so i know i'm not alone. and i have been ashamed for too long! it's not like i'm gonna go out celebrating when i get this gross thing on my face, but now i can tell people what i'm taking medication for five times a day without being afraid of the possible stigma. and while the stigma may still be there, at least i can say 'fuck you' to the haters.

fuck you, haters. i'm taking back my face.

ProjRun Finale Liveblogging Awesomeness

2008-03-05T22:00:00.000-08:00

it's Lauren. Kate is a douche and hasn't added me yet.
(Kate's commentary in italics!)

10:02 - Christian seems worried about Rami. He shouldn't be.
(K: Aww, it matters to Christian what others think! Who'da thunk?)
-Augh Jillian's stripes plus mop yarn sweater is the worst piece ever. She should listen to Tim. They should ALL listen to Tim.
-Christian's neck ruffle makes me swoon.
(Jillian pronounced resolution "REE-solution."
I think the editors did a good job of winning us over re: Christian's attitude by showing him all nervous and then complimenting everyone. Smart cookies.)

10:05 - "let's go pick some fierce girls"
- Jillian was overwhelmed? big surprise. too much Lithium, dude.
- Christian needs "edgy girls, dark-skinned girls, and walks for days". there is no reason why this kid does not deserve to be a crazy famous designer. give him money and who knows what he'll do with his clothes and his hair?
(Jillian wants petite girls? Sigh.)

10:07 - Christian's two-toned ruffle dress is 100 percent fabulous. plus gloves, which i love. His model can't walk in those shoes, though. fuck her, the shoes rock. (Word.)
- Jillian's crazy is coming out. She has no clue what she's doing...surprise! She's kept it all hidden behind her monotone mask all season.

During the commercial i will apologize for my blatant Christian-love. the other collections are mediocre; Jillian has no cohesiveness and Rami is hella dull and skews old. So I'll state for the record that if Christian doesn't win I will officially boycott the judges. I'm still angry from when they Allison Kelly-d Kit way too early.

10:15 - Rami asks: "Jillian, can you focus on the positive now?" "No," she whines. I haven't hated most of her designs, but I don't see how anyone can stand her personage. and that mop-sleeve sweater may negate most of the good things she's ever created. it is a DISASTER.

10:17 - "one last gather round"
- OMG Tim Gunn is about to cry. They are an inspiration for him. I wish that I could be an inspiration for him, but he would probably tell me that scars are repulsive and that I should put my breasts away. And then I would make him awkward by talking about backfat. But if I made him chuckle, it would be worth it.
(Since when is there supposed to be happy hugging in the final workroom? Most lovey dovey contestants evar.
"I feel sa littuh!" - Christian, during hug.)

10:19 - blah blah yeah they're at Bryant Park. Nothing is interesting...Jillian is still freaking out...surprise!
- the girls are late...is there such thing as a reliable ProjRun model? They're always getting into bicycle accidents or having unnamable emergencies.
(Christian about the model probs: "That's not cute for me.")

10:21 - Jack and Dale! are like, Bravo couple of the year.
-Jay McCarroll! totes set the bar, and I'm not sure anyone's topped him yet on the show.
-OMG i do not care that Rami has wanted to be a designer since he was five or whatevs. Does that make him better than everyone else, or more deserving?
-Posh frightens me. She was always my least favorite spice.

10:23 Judgement on Jillian
-eew cheap looking yarn.
-i don't hate the gold-trimmed jacket.
-the girl has a SERIOUS hat issue.
-eew bad sleeves, Jill
-that blue dress is the best one, but where the fuck does it fit into the collection? nowhere.
-and OMG on her final look the boobs look like lizard eyes. it is terrifying.
(Snooze.)

10:30 Judgement on Rami
-he celebrates women. boring women.
-his sleeves are even worse than Jillian's
-boring color stories.
-i still don't hate the pointy-topped sleeveless dress, but leave off the jacket...it does nothing for it.
-eew all olive green? both pieces would not be bad iin a different color
-don't hate the gold dress - it actually fits well...and the one after it is at least interesting.
-but the last dress...dude. giant hip ovals, ill-fitting top = no.
(Girlfriend could. not. walk. in the slinky gold number.
Also, I swear that Kayne's old model Amanda wore the olive corset monstrosity.
Also also! Jaslene was in Jillian's show and Danielle and Bianca were in Chris March's show. ANTM in da hizzouse, whut?)

10:34 Judgement on Christian
-Christian has the opposite of a hat problem.
-it's nice to see the black pieces on tv where i can really see the detail on them that was lacking in photos.
-ahhhh neck ruffle! rocks my world.
-the ruffle dress looks like a fabulous textile sea creature. (Crazy love for that one.)
-and that last feathery look and the way it moves! incredible. the other two final dresses can't even compare.

sidenote: i love the gay levi's commercial. it's hella egalitarian and sexy.
second sidenote: woman playing a psychic/fortune teller in a chicken commercial also played a psychic in the Trisha Tanaka is Dead episode of LOST. just in case you cared. (I don't.)

10:41 - Posh is hilarious when she talks. I can see why people like her. and i surprisingly don't hate her orange dress. Heidi's shirt is blinding. (And her shoes inexplicable.)
-really? the winner will win a spread in Elle magazine? and 100,000 dollars to start their own line? and a bunch of other shit? at least she doesn't speak as slowly as Tyra.
-WTF? the looks on the runway are not the final looks!
-Jillian has chosen the red-lined jacket, which isn't terrible, but isn't really anything new for her. and it doesn't match the pants.
-Nina and Michael loved her knits! lame.

-Christian is nervous!
-Posh thinks he is "major"
-Michael thinks the feather dress was "spectacular"
-Posh LOVES Christian, she doesn't care that he's monochromatic.

-Sorry, I haven't really been paying attention to Rami's critique. They don't like his boring ass colors. He tried too hard to make separates, when his strength is in evening wear. word.

10:47 Judge's Judgement- Jillian doesn't know what her signature identifier is. true that. but her looks are women-centered and occasionally wearable, which is also true.
-Christian is making a statement and dramatic and designed - sometimes overly so? whatevs, i don't really care what they say 'cause his was the best, hands down. i hope posh makes sure he wins so she can wear his clothes. "[he] designed the chignon for her"
-Michael's word for Rami is "cerebral". i agree, but i think too much so. Nina thinks Rami is color-challenged. I also agree. This is crazy, i almost never agree with them.

yo, i'll be glad when i don't have cable anymore because then i won't have to watch commercials. my life was so pleasantly commercial free before, although i do love being able to watch ProjRun.

10:54 - OMG VERDICT!
-Jillian is the first one out. Cause her collection was so not...collective. "i was so disappointed" she says without emotion in her voice. feel something!
-dude, christian's about to cry.

10:56 - CHRISTIAN WINS!!!! and his fierce facade comes down. he is feeling something, he is the winner! "what the hell just happened?"
(Victoria Mothafucking Beckham is CRYING!)
-Victoria Beckham is "such a fan" and would wear any of his designs anytime. I am no longer scared of her. although i might be in one of christian's designs.
-it would be worth all the stress and work to get a hug from tim like that.
-christian totally "needs a vacay"

man, i need a fucking vacay. but yay for ProjRun! they never disappoint me in the end.
(Double word.)

Two Cents on Juno (and no shmashmortion or shmashmegnancy mention at all!)

2008-02-27T10:41:00.000-08:00

Here's the thing about Juno...

Numero Uno: People who criticize Juno's linguistic choices are full of shit. I am not that far from my own high school experience, and I definitely had a specific and "snappy" vernacular. Anyone who thinks teenage girls don't talk like that is either too old to remember what high school was really like, or was a lame teenager.

Numero Dos: People who criticize Juno's taste in music are full of shit. My favorite bands in high school? Talking Heads, and Elvis Costello and the Attractions. Anyone who thinks teenage girls don't listen to "real" or "good" music was a lame teenager.

Numero Tres: People who criticize Juno's taste in boys (i.e. Pauly Bleeker) are full of shit. In high school, as now, there was/is nothing like an awkward dude to set my heart a-flutter. Anyone who thinks awkward guys aren't totally boneable is lame.

Numero Cuatro: People who criticize Juno's seeming indecision (do I care what my parents think? do I care what the kids at school think?) are full of shit. The moment when Juno confesses to her father "I'm not really sure what kind of girl I am" is totally honest and SPOT ON. That is exactly what being an individualistic girl in high school is like. You can go from "Fuck them! I hate all those loser clones!" to "I wish I knew if they were talking about me..." in seconds. Instead of taking some stupid stereotype and making it your identity, you take this idea of who you are inside and try to figure out how you fit in the world. And Ellen Page's delivery of that line - perfecto.

and finally
Numero Cinco: Visibility counts. Can you think of the last time you saw a movie, geared towards teenage audiences, that had a positive, thoughtful, funny, unusual female protagonist? 10 Things I Hate About You. Pretty in Pink, maybe? What I'm saying is that positive young female characters are about as common as good Eddie Murphy movies. It is important for people to see themselves reflected in popular media. Gays, racial "minorities," and awesome young women are all few and far between. I don't care how you feel about the subject matter, I don't care if you hate The Moldy Peaches. I don't care if indie cool is not your bag. This movie reflects a world that exists with little or no representation on screen, and I will fight to keep more of this coming. And that means defending this too-precious little movie from the attacks of mainstream rags and fist-shaking girl zines alike.

Juno McGuff, I'd like more of you.
In my pants...

Some links to Juno-related articles:
Gawker was dissapointed.
Excellent, balanced article on Slate.com
Diablo Cody: Victim of Girl Hate (This one gets it exactly.)

you're living my lifebeing

2008-02-26T22:43:00.000-08:00

Trial: Text Messaging, transcribed.

K: I never want to be one of those girls whose friends all look alike. I see these clones on campus and they make me vomit.
K: Also, I want ellen page to be a dyke so bad. She is super cute and pint sized.
L: Omg, i'm in a graduation/senior class meeting and its terrible and boring and just makes me want to leave even more.
K: Suckage! Yeah, i'm glad that i got to take my senior class last spring before the desperation set in.
K: New historical/political tee: the one hot one with polio and a pic of FDR
L: They're trying to sell me shit. And, you know, i'm so uninvolved and apathetic. Ps everyone wants ellen to be gay. Yes to polio!
K: Don't buy their shit! Patch and Kenzosan don't want her to be gay.
L: Of course they dont, shes hella hot. I maintain that she is sexually open-minded, and would totally make out with me and/or patch
K: Or both. She's totally a weird fantasy girl for me because we couldn't actually make out, my bulk would overwhelm her. We'd just have mind sex.
L: Dude, she's def bicurious. Patch has a crustache?! I just got your message. Thats terrible.
K: Awesome. Patch is going to some hella indie cocert and grew it to "be hella hipster" - by his own admission! I'm finally getting to him.
...
K: Omg, i'm in the mall returning those gap jeanr that were too big. And i'm high. And it's AWFUL.
L: Dude, youre living my life-being stoned and dysfunctional- and im living yours- being not stoned and hella busy
K: Dude! Also, when I read life-bring i read it as one word and i was going to make fun of you for being hella hippy
K: Omg, pretzel time!

Conclusion: We use the exclamation "Dude" and the intensifier "hella" way way too much. NorCal much?

J. Walter Weatherman's dog has three legs.

2008-02-22T20:43:00.000-08:00

K: Dude, I think I got carpal tunnel today.
L: (uproarious laughter) Why did you get carpal tunnel today?
K: Dude, hang on! I can't type and make funny at the same time!
L: Tell me how you got carpal tunnel.
K: Well, I was just typing in the computer lab, furiously. And when I got home my whole right arm ached.
L: Why were you typing furiously?
K: I was just amped on a whole lot of caffeine.
L: Oh man, that reminds me of 30 Rock. First of all, it was the Christmas episode which was called Ludachristmas -
K: LUDA!
L: Yeah, and so I think that should be the name of our Christmas party next year.
K: Definitely.
L: So in 30 Rock Tracy Morgan buys everyone cappuccino machines and he puts one on Kenneth's desk and he totally gets him hooked on coffee!
K: Excellent.
L: He says, "I love it, it feels like my heart is giving my brain a giant hug!" I thought as a coffee drinker that you'd enjoy that.
K: (laughing) I do!
L: Okay, so can I tell you the best part of Celebrity Apprentice?
K: ...
L: Ivanka Trump
K: Ivana or Ivanka?
L: I dunno, whichever -
K: The young hot one?
L: Yeah. Mmm. She's soooo hot. It's really her voice.
K: She dated Topher Grace, you know.
L: Really? That's sweet. Dude, but he's like thirty. Isn't that weird?
K: No, thirty?
L: Yeah, he's turning thirty... in July.