| August 14th, 2007 |
[Aug. 20th, 2007|09:31 am] |
Sooo...are you bummed as to how many posts I've been doing lately? Woo hoo new blog subscription post! I hope it's…oh. No. It's Aimee-Beth. Again.
Yea well, you see...my job consists of: reading.myspace.movies.oh,phone call here. random errand there. lunch. break for a walk. writing shit in my brain down. la di daaaah. I really have no room to complain, it is one of the greatest jobs ever....BUT HOLY WHORE MARY MAGDELENE I JUST WISH THAT THE DUDES IN MY OFFICE WOULD SHUT THE FUCK UP!
The first day I worked here I thought their banter was quaint. But it's not. They just yammer at each other about the most ego stroking insipid bullshit, and at first I had hoped that they might be joking like, no way could these guys be so self unaware of the fact that they sound like a couple of USC-graduated-greased-up-oily-douche-bag-penis-faces. But I was wrong. So very very wrong.
One of them is this weirdo frat boy/ Hollywood man hybrid guy, he really revels in the Los Angeles stereotype and then puts this whole power hungry "fuck humanity, lets play dirty" industry executive spin on it. He belches loudly, power lifts on his lunch break, gets unnecessarily worked up over little shit, has a wife but cheats on her, and carries around a baseball bat at all times………………………………………………??!!!?? Excuse me?? Oh what, do Giovanni Ribisi and Ben Affleck suddenly work here? Because the last time I checked this isn't fucking "Boiler Room".
The other one is Captain UmWellActually which often times awakens the Balrog that lives deep inside me. I'll be minding my own business chatting it up with Jina and then all the sudden….DOOT DOO DOOOO!!:
(" Um well, actually Aimee-Beth, I think- kskhhhhhshhhhhhhkssssshhhhhhhhhhhh" <--this is what I start to hear after about two seconds.) Other than that he is generally pretty alright, I mean…he likes Louis CK, so he gains a few points. But he also constantly fuels the word vomit that comes out of the other one. It's like they enable each other's suckiness, they have contests to see who can be the biggest walking hemorrhoid.
When they are alone they are fine, I can deal. In fact, I feel like we all have a pretty ok understanding, they view me as a bizarre creature from the planet "Girls With Real Opinions" and fear my feminist wrath (Oh fuck, today one of them said "OOOOH!! You're so sassy! So young, so sassy! I like..." and I let my beloved bitch flag fly. My bosses are cool though, because they don't mind when I do that) so they kind of leave me alone and in return I pay them little to no attention. But they still love creating a giant Voltron of OMG KILL ME with their verbal correspondence to each other, and my desk is RIGHT between their offices. So I get to listen all day long as they blab INCESSENTLY about Boston Red Sox (Maybe I should cut them slack because they're from the East Coast, but really…I could give a fuck less about the Red Sox because the only team I care about is the Dodgers, for obvious reasons) and who is hotter than who ("Oh, dude Jessica Alba" "No way man, her lips are way too big"….are you fucking kidding me? They would both be so lucky if Bea Arthur decided to sit on their faces) to ("Oh that so and so at such and such looks like a friggin HORSE…NEEEIIIIGHH!!") to ("I want to get these motherfuckers locked and loaded man! This integration plan needs to be grabbed by the fucking balls and blah blah blah meow meow meow")
It's enough to make me want loofa my body with a cheese grater and then bathe in a kiddie pool of lemon juice and sea salt. That would be better than listening to them talk.
But besides all that, they're pretty alright dudes I guess. The whole thing makes me very very thankful for the rad, intelligent, thoughtful, cool men that I keep company with and whom I consider friends. Thanks guys! Appreciate you! XXXXOO |
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| August 8, 2007 |
[Aug. 20th, 2007|09:30 am] |
Now begins the long exciting journey of self discovery and expression through the art of taking a risk and jumping on in. I couldn't be more excited, because the water looks real real nice.
On a side note, I didn't *really* die all the way this past weekend, just a little, which is good. Partied with Motherspeed and friends forever in a Chevron parking lot in Upland on Saturday night...bbq extravaganza at Echo Park with aforementioned everyone yestersay, and I woke up just in time to still be a little drunk and get to the job this morning.
Oh jeeze louise, my nail polish is chipping somethin' fiiiierce! |
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| July 23rd, 2007 |
[Aug. 20th, 2007|09:30 am] |
20.
Sunday night find me purring down Sunset in a '73 Buick...the kind of car that turns heads. First stop brings us to talks of Corpus Christi and a performance by Thai Elvis over fried rice and Budweiser. Funny how in this town screaming the lyrics to "Velouria" at the top of your lungs along with the jukebox to a perfect stranger brings about adventures such as this.
Second stop to grab drinks and meet up with the friends. I introduce myself to the people I do not know, and hit it off nicely with a girl from the panhandle of Kansas who bares a striking resemblance to Julliette Lewis. Her boyfriend is an actor...he's very notable for his performances in Cops and America's Most Wanted. Fuckin A!!
My beer-head-tripping starts to come around as I clip over to the Roxy in devastating heels. I see Kyle Terra, and motherfucker brought me BACK.
Back to those times when I was little and alone and so so so sad...back to the times when Jeff Buckley sang me to sleep every.single.night. I would go to your friend's apartment across the way, that's when I first started really smoking weed and we'd watch amazing movies like Rollerblade. Its where we first interacted on the real, I think.
The important thing here is this: we're all going to see Hank Williams the THIRD and I'm just about ready to die. Inside to the loving arms of MGD, past the cocktail waitress from Hawaii, and the place is fuckin packed. I decide that I like the Roxy and pretentious eastsiders can get too snobby with their shit sometimes. The next hour and a half is a mind altering clusterfucking that my poor weary dome has been longing for. He keeps his arm up to inhibit the hellbillies from crashing into me with their wild turkey dancing. I teeter totter and throw my hips around to the beat. I pass out cigarettes. I bask in the lights that are especially bright. I twirl up Julliette Lewis from Kansas's hair and blow on the back of her neck. I take long slow drags and deep big gulps. I lick some sweat off. If Hank knew what kind of show his legacy was throwing down I'm pretty certain he would be one proud sonofabitch.
Outside to sit on the sidewalk, rest my throbbing feet and drink in the L.A. summer night air that's thick with humidity. The sky has a crazy looking cumulus framing the moon and I think it might rain...which is great, because after all...we do live in a desert.
Into the car and off to Good Luck bar for some after hours happy endings. "Y'all" know the people who own the joint real well. The bartender remembers my name. More beers, more good times, conversation and recounting. This is all so very nice but I have work tomorrow and I really must get home lest I turn into a pumpkin.
Happy night times.
Yes yes...so much fun.
I stagger in, throw off my dress, and collide lovingly in a horizontal manner into my bed alone, make up and all. |
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| July 21st, 2007 |
[Aug. 20th, 2007|09:29 am] |
19.
I've never been good at anything in particular. No amazing talent. I can talk to people…I am personable and outgoing. Sometimes I can be clever. I have street smarts. I can apply make up.
But I've always wanted a special talent. Something to show off, like being good at drawing or sculpting or painting or making music or you know, some shit like that.
I tend to get jealous of people with these abilities…it automatically makes them more desirable to other people…mysterious…like they know special secrets of the universe. You can be boring and lame and even mean, however, make something neat to see or hear or touch and people love you. But, I suppose that at the end of it all these abilities are just that…abilities. Or maybe this is just what I tell myself. Some people are simply able to manifest their ideas and brain images into something tangible.
I can't.
I can smoke cigarettes…very very well, mind you.
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So, shortly after I wrote the above, my creepy friend Ron ( whom I dated in February of 2005) sent me this, which is a poem I wrote for him on valentines day. At first I was confused because I forgot that I had written it.:
..>..>..>..>..>..>..>..>..>..>
Subject: Blog 19
Body:
Maybe poetry?
I gave you my digits cause I thought you'd be weird
Mayhaps a molester with drugs and a beard
But you turned out to be awesome, attractive, and smart
Great in the sack, sorta shitty at art
You like ska, Bone Thugs, and hot DDR action
Your love of good comedy adds to the attraction
V-Day normally sucks, but not this year
Cause I met a rudeboy who drinks vanilla coke and not beer.
You're like if Emerson, Thomas, Frost, and Shakespeare formed a Voltron, but instead of a giant robot it's a 21 year old LA hipster.
Or maybe comedy? You're funny (for a girl I guess).
-----------------------------------------------------------------
I'm going to have to agree with Ron. I am amazing at poetry.
AMAZING. Incredible even?
Oh, and dancing. Last night I had an 80s movie moment wherein there was a circle of people gathered around myself and this really cool mexican dude. We were having a crunk-off. I got the crunkest. |
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| July 15th, 2007 |
[Aug. 20th, 2007|09:28 am] |
Do we have any sober parties in the house? And. Who is going to drive you home?
Do you understand what I say when I mean these things?
Is it true that you can't pick your family? What if they've been picked for you many many times before? What if you were given a chance to help with the choosing, but your voice wasn't heard and your opinion never mattered much?
Is that weird? I know you don't have to Like them, but do you really have to Love them?
I mean, They say that, but it might be bullshit.
Everyone and everything dies, eventually. Some sooner than later. Even those sequoias. So why is it so hard for you to wrap your brain around that concept? Why does it make you so uncomfortable? Why are you sent into a black depression every time you read about shit like children in Russia with AIDS who don't even know they have it? You can't help that, or change it. Just don't read about it, right? Just don't dwell on such things...
Besides, everyone is drinking margaritas and your mom is reenacting Grease with the Danny Zucko impersonator your stepdad hired!! Look, with a little help from this thirty seven year old stranger dressed in black, her corporate pundit pals, and your gay cousin ( remember when he played barbies with you when you were three?) she's totally singing "You're The One That I Want"!!
Don't you see? We're having fun. You don't need to think about slaughter houses or the fact that bringing life into the world is still the leading cause of death in most countries. You were born into a decent life. Don't worry about what North Korea is brewing up, impoverished drug runners, the orphanages of Kabul, or the genocide in Darfur. Besides, U2 is all over that, right?! Bono is totally making an album about it!! With John Lennon songs and EVERYTHING!!
Just relax. Take a b-load. Have a drink.
For the first time in a long time I say no to this sort of vacation.
It might be making me crazy.
Hopefully temporarily.
So, when are you coming back to me?
and
Are You Happy? |
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| July 10th, 2007 |
[Aug. 20th, 2007|09:28 am] |
17.
Nick has a little cone around his head to keep him from scratching his little scratchy places. I wonder which parasites have made a snack of his adorable fuzzy body. I feel bad for Nick. He just really really wants to go up the stairs. Every time I see him he wants to go up the stairs. But he is tugged back into the office from whence he came by his shy handler, clumsy cone and all.
My building smells like air conditioning and sea salt and plants.
Building 4 smells like new car.
Building 3 smells like lavender soap.
The hydrangeas between 4 and 5 are the biggest and softest. Bright blue alien flowers.....there is a little cafe table for me to eat my plant based lunches with them and the birches. Birches and hydrangeas and slate walkways and sponge grass and various other alien shrubs.
It's a garden that you would find at Helmholtz Watson's house.
You would sit and have tea with him and John the Savage...discuss Betas and Soma and shit.
I like to watch the deer women click around pathways (never the sponge grass) with their wobbly bambi legs and nervous doe eyes. They're oblivious to the amazing mini pamplemousses and always confused as to where the audition is being held.
Which building is such and such casting held in? ( no please or excuse me, mind you)
Well I don't really know. Many of these offices are temporary...used for production and casting. They change all the time. I would go and check with Megan in Building 3...past the mail room blah blah blah
Sigh. Thanks.
But they're not thankful, and I don't blame them. They're too busy hoping and praying to be
thin-enough-pretty-enough-quirky-enough-intelligent-enough to be thankful.
It's ok, I understand...but not really, and for that I am thankful.
When I was a little girl I use to think my mom's business offices looked like palaces, but they pale in comparison to mine.
Mine is a glass castle with martian foliage and marble floors and ocean air and comfortable chairs and a brand new MAC just for me.
There is royalty about, but you don't really see them too often. You mostly interact with the other servants and you know, like...hand maidens and shit.
We are a motley crew. We don't have to wear bras and we don't even have to wash our hair.
I pick and choose.
AHHH freedom!
Today we had a cartwheel contest and looked at genital tattoos. I like the boys in the office for their wit even though one of them constantly stares at my breasts. Jina is the other female and thankfully my friend. She's from Hong Kong and can speak Cantonese, Mandarin, and English fluently. She gave me a little doll named Bop N Beep on my first day and we talked about books and boys and music and clothes and drugs. I like her. I want to put her in my pocket so that I may take her home. I would keep her under my bed ( because she would fit) and feed her jellybeans and Sunny D.
All kinds of flavors too...
I can't believe I'm here in this magical city where anything is possible and everything is beautiful in every way possible and I'm living a life that I always imagined for myself. I'm surrounded by angels and not monsters so this urban paradise is living up to its name.
I miss you, though.
Oh, and as a side note, not to be petty, but I thought about it today...and it bothered me so...for the record:
"Do we HAVE to do this?"
Actually bitch, no. We don't.
You are not a lady, hardly a badass and your paintings won't sleep with you like a puppy at night.
F.Y.motherfuckin I.
Ok. |
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| June 20th, 2007 |
[Aug. 20th, 2007|09:25 am] |
13.
First, I have to get really fucking pissed. Next, I have to curse/forgive myself for every stupid thing I have done between '02 through to '06 and lay it to rest. Yea, that's right...we'll leave it all at '06. Six months into the year, so far, and it's been alright. So lets start a new era now. It's time for change and the like.
Then, with that in mind, I have to learn to navigate situations that are beneficial, but only because ultimately they are detrimental, and I need to learn the difference and when to call it quits and when to keep going.
After all that mess is dealt with, only when I figure out that bullshit, I can wonder where the fuck It could've gone to.
In the morning, when I woke up...after that sonofabitch dream, It was laying there next to my pillow like an omen. A little yarn omen...and at first I tried to get It back on. Make It work. But then some weird train of thought came rambling through my brain and it made me think that there was a reason and that it was meant to happen.
Well hey, lets do a bong rip, and hey, the beach? Yeah... that sounds good.
Cigarette and then BAM: Where the fuck did It go?
I disagree with you now, Train of Thought...it was not a sign.
Losing It made me have a bad day. How can you have a bad day when it is comprised of a quiet beach with weedsmoke, secret caves filled with ocean flowers, and friends? How can you not want beer and happy hour appetizers afterwards when the game is on and the spurs are going to win?
Well, I've lost It, that is how, and they did win, and You were right.
Anti-climatic to say the least.
fuck those guys.
fuck.those.guys.dude.
So, I took a walk and smoked a bowl and passed some houses and a car dealership, but it barely made a dent...and Either/Or probably wasn't the best thing to select for my state of mind, but it felt good...like when the second shot of vodka starts kicking in after a hard day with a long night in tow.
Today? Not so bad. Green ice tea and the last lazy days of me. Gotta start working soon...landed a real nice job. A grown up job for grown ups who never want to grow up.
But I miss things.
And I think You know what they are.
Some I'll not get again, but there are still so many I can and will.
I'm going to find It.
And then maybe I can find You.
Just as soon as I handle some business first, you know?
So, here's to you, Stupid Shit I Have Done...may you R.I.P
2002-2006 |
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| June 14th, 2007 |
[Aug. 20th, 2007|09:24 am] |
Taxi cab zipping down the 101 like a bullet to the ocean, goddamn, how much will this cost? Who cares, we can both drink.
Fucking sweet...baby gots a union job.
Hi to your friend from Brazil who lost his eye due to the fact that the benevolent parasite he caught from the waters down there went for his vision and not his brain. Little zombie inside his head. Scary shit man.
I note that the glass eye is pretty and he's drinking hennessey and coke.
He has to shoot up again...I take out his syringes and watch the monitor for a read. It was the rice. The rice from the sushi and maybe the beer. That's why its high, a few units and then relief. A constant balancing act. An unlikely badass warrior.
He opens up doors.
Fuck this, I hate WEHO. Assholes and bitches. This club doesn't feel familiar. I try to get a visceral response from those days when I would shakily venture out to the city with the big kids.
Those memories don't even seem real.
But they happened. And that is awesome.
Brazil's cousin is fucking hot and talented. I don't feel guilty for this, because she's a girl.
A game of chip roulette and caffine vs caffine free diet pepsi find us in the Roosevelt looking like eastside paupers sniffing around for scraps.
Shit, is that Eryka Badu?
Plans for impromptu hotel sleep overs are made.
Lurk around for a bathroom.
Taxi cab home through the good parts of hollywood. I wish the 1980s would've never happened to this town, garish bullshit lingers but not enough to cover the fucked-up-in-a-beautiful way history. Hall-ay-loo-yah.
Did that guy say 'uno mas muerte?'
uno mas man, uno mas.
weedsmoke.
chit chats.
you have blue asian eyes.
you have an understanding.
you have a slow smile and rough hands.
turn on the red light and the radio.
we should slow dance. |
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| May 16th, 2007 |
[Aug. 20th, 2007|09:23 am] |
9.
Current mood: giddy
Just a few things:
I enjoy
- The two beautiful macaws that hang out in the nieghbors tree and say hello to me when I walk to my car
- The fact that I can get vegan fast food delivered to my door
- Having adventures with perfect willing strangers and then never seeing them again
- Getting to partake in a cold beer while working
- Downtown around 4:30pm
- My brand new family of good solid friends and fun loving aquaintances
- 40 dollar Thai Massage
- Silverlake hipsters
- The cool breezes and lack of stifling pollution (the likes of which I experienced back in Redlands)
- The opportunity that I can experience a different bar for every day of the year
- 1920s french bistros and rockabilly diners in Los Feliz
- Public parks
- Perfectly rolled joints by Nalani...she puts hawaiian magic in them I think
- Backdoor cafe bagels with tofu cream cheese and an iced french press coffee
- My liquor store pal who always says " HELLO MY LITTLE FRIEND!" whenever I come in to buy things that are bad for me
- Tyson's dog naps |
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| October 4th, 2006 |
[Aug. 20th, 2007|09:21 am] |
I hate not having the internet. I feel isolated and disconnected. Yet, at the same time its sorta nice. In any case, expect a letter from me once I get it back.
Well now, here:
1. Went and saw the Yeah Yeah Yeahs in San Diego. Karen O is more of a wasted-crazy-no-shit-takin-shit-talking-rad-bitch than I could have ever hoped for. She like, does interpretive dances with scarves and kooky props.You just can't hate on baby girl for that. Their songs were tight and they played everything we could've wanted. Well rounded to make everyone happy. My only complaint would be the "all ages" nature of the venue. I prefer my clubs to smell like awesome and beer and making out and cigarettes....not puberty.
I must've seen a half a dozen third graders pop boners for Ms. O due to her penchant for wearing tiny bathing suits and fellating microphones.
2. Went to COMEDY DEATH RAY 4. Um. That was. Fucking intense. Oh, hell...here's the flyer:
Comedy Death Ray 4
I'm sure...you can imagine how that all went. A 10 hour comedy extravaganza featuring Bob Odenkirk and Patton Oswald and yadda yadda?! Amazing. I mean, when you first walked into the joint you got handed a bag with free swag inside ( comedy cds, buttons, stickers, a t shirt in my size that says "I'm getting pretty good at masturbating", etc.) And THEN in the NEXT room they handed out red cups of BEER. There was FREE BEER ALL NIGHT. And snacks!! And at about 4 am people started going crazy...you could taste it in the air. Drunk+ comedy+ what the fuck are we doing up at 5:30?=kjkjgjkhhkjhljoin. I mean it.
Today I'm sick and miserable and wishing I wasn't. I somehow pirated the internet and so now I'm happy... but it's oh so very fleeting ( the internet. not my emotional state). |
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| June 30th, 2006 |
[Aug. 20th, 2007|09:20 am] |
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Holy shit I love dogs. Today I saw a tiny asian lady shopping in the petites section with a little chihuahua and I pissed all over the Charter Club skirts in sizes 2-5p. |
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| June 26th, 2006 |
[Aug. 20th, 2007|09:19 am] |
I.FUCKING.LOVE.TINY.BABY.ANIMALS.
LOVE THEM!!!
Holy shit, sometimes I go to google, click images, and type "baby animals".
Then I JERK OFF.
ALL OVER THE PLACE!
Today, I saw two pictures. One of a baby hedgehog and one of a baby sloth.
No man will ever satisfy the way those TWO pictures did.
EVER. |
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| June, 15th 2006 |
[Aug. 20th, 2007|09:17 am] |
I witnessed two incredible concerts TWO days in a row.
Calexico.
Lemme break it down like a shotgun:
Solana Beach- Woods (roommate and one of the people in my top eight of LIFE) and I make a nice music mix for the hour and 45 minute drive down to Solana Beach. We grab the weedstuffs, our sunglasses, hop into the car (Talula), and are on the road by 7:00. Show starts at 9. Lovely weather, beautiful sunset, superb company...a quick detour through some sleepy artist town outside of where we're suppose to be...because we're lost. Find our way! Onward and upward to....
Belly Up Tavern. An AMAZING venue. Big, clean, dark and brooding, fantastic architecture and woodwork throughout. The walls were covered in concert posters (RAD!) and paintings of jazz and blues legends (RADDER!) Chris and I decided after a round of fancy beer, that concerts are for water beer. We indulge, and right as Calexico take the stage we're buzzed and happy and stoked out of our minds.
Calexico kick into 'Roka', and uhhh my massive raging music boner doesn't go away for the rest of the night. Calexico are lksndfkjsdnfkjsdbsjndcosindckjsnfksdj live. They shake the soul. It's beautiful. They played almost every song I could've asked for, and some that I wouldn't think to play live...and they conquer ALL.
I stick around after the show, convince their photographer to grab me the playlist, blab the ears off a nice couple about how much I love Calexico ( one of them offers to take my set list back to get it signed...AND HE DOES!) and then Joey Burns emerges (!!!!!!) I was a little buzzy and still high off of their show...so needless to say was was......excited.
I basically went on to nearly hump Joey's leg and in a puppy-like manner wax poetic about how much I love them and how amazing they are and no, no seriously they are SOOOO good, I have like...a sticker on my car that I had MADE. I love them sooo much, they are like, one of my absolute favorite bands. So on and so forth. He seemed a little taken aback but was completely lovely and gracious and asked me if I had any requests for the next night. I would LOVE to hear 'Black Heart' or 'The Crooked Road and the Briar' ( I think I said The Long Road...) and he assured me that Black Heart would be an option for the Los Angeles show. He took my name and shook my hand and he's a dreamy dreamboat with a voice like.....rain in the desert and all that shit.
Drive home, feeling content.
Los Angeles- Adam and I start the day off right. Some veggie pizza and a bowl of chronic.
Woop.
As always, the universe recognizes that hey...'Adam and Aimee are going to hang out today', so the cosmos begins to MAKE DAMN SURE nothing goes wrong, and that every thing is perfect, and that everything looks, smells, tastes, and feels especially good.
We take the back way through to Los Angeles...drive directly to Olvera St.
We buy mexican candy, some yarn bracelets, a virgin mary pendant on a cord (which goes around my neck and has yet to come off), and dabble through the vendors wares (<---this is to be read in a silly british accent.) The sun is shining, a breeze is blowing and then a unicorn flew through the sky. After potato tacos (that are the best tacos in the world), we kick it in a park in east L.A., nap, head down to Hollywood Blvd for the show.
Again...everything goes right: close cheap parking, no crowds, lovely sunset...all is well.
Adam and I walk into the Henry Fonda and proceed to sneak into the VIP section. We nab amazing seats that are front and center. As we look around, we begin to notice that there are a lot of other rebels( people without VIP wristbands) sitting around us. We all make subtle eye contact and acknowledge that
A. Fuck the man. and
B. Fuck yea.
We all stay seated and are NOT asked to leave (amazing). Black Heart Procession is impressive. I can't wait for Calexico.
They take the stage and proceed to do another AMAZING and varied show from the night previous. I recognize the same set list, but with nuances and additions. The performance is fresh and shattering ( Adam had a similar music boner to mine)
THEN
JUST WHEN WE THINK THE DAY CAN'T GET BETTER...
Joey Burns (dreamboat) steps up to the Mic and starts talking.
'A friend of ours came to see us last night...'
I look at Adam
'And...hopefully she's here tonight....'
I grab Adams hand and hold my breath
'Because she wanted to hear a song and we're going to play it for her...'
Nervous breakdown STARTS to commence
'So Aimee, this is for you...'
I freak out and say something retared like 'Oh. MY. GOOOOD!' and then manage a squeaky 'THANK YOU JOeeey...' and they kick into Black Heart and it's utterly devastating and I uhhh...
my brain exploded.
I mean...c'mon. That is AWESOME. He didn't have to do that, but he did...because he wanted to make a fan happy.
That is so fucking cool.
The rest of the show went swimmingly, the crowd begging for a second encore. Adam and I bask in the afterglow for a bit...the Henry Fonda is a cool venue.
We grab some Calexico merch and head to Mel's for pie and coffee.
SO.
Amazing nights. TWICE in a row. Both while in the company of rad dudes.
You may shoot me. |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 12th, 2006|08:22 pm] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Black Jack Johnson- Mos Def | ] |
I'm such a retard. I weighed myself today and I weigh the same as always. Here I was freaking out that I needed to get in really amazing shape...girls are silly sometimes.
I mean, I'm totally resuming my regular workout routine...but I don't really need to lose any weight the way I thought I did.
So, last night the girls and I went to a very classy wine and cheese party with 30 year olds. There was some crazy cracked out redhead who was yammering at us the minute we walked in. She was like, anorexic and the typical pretty...but annoying as fuck. We were on the same wavelength about her INSTANTLY.
Then we proceeded to get really drunk and I think I kept saying things like 'LOOK AT US ALL IN OUR 20s!! WE'RE BRINGING THE PARTY!!!'
We all had a little floor party and talked about girl things and sex and drinking and architecture and the crazy cracked out broad that kept bugging us, and boys, and calling out "dibs" on neighbors. It was pretty awesome and very sisterly. I've never had a lot of girlfriends...so it feels amazing that I live with a group of young women that I can connect with on a mental level.
I called off work today, because I feel sick. And we all stayed home and hung out and talked and nursed our hangovers and relived the nights events and now I'm going to go get beer so we can watch Desperate Housewives. Hahahahaha.
The weather was absolutely amazing today, and the night is even better....I'm really enjoying how things have been shaping up for me. I don't want anything to change. |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 11th, 2006|09:44 pm] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Black Swan- Thom Yorke | ] |
Things are becoming more familiar, day by day.
L.A. is feeling more like a home and less like a hotel.
I'm learning to merge and flow with the pace of things out here, I'm finding that a lot of the glitz of this town is due in part to it's mystery. Once you get over the mystery it becomes something completely different. I was reading On The Road last night..which I haven't picked up since 9th grade ( and I know some people consider Kerouac to be..overrated? That's bullshit.) but the way he describes Los Angeles is perfect. It's such a weird cut throat city. The weather is always gorgeous, and maybe this stokes the recklessness inherit in everyone. Out here people are just that. Reckless, busy, down to party, down to connect, down to talk about themselves 24/7. I am so greatful for the friends I have here...
Hanging out at Phil and Wes' house saves me sanity, it feels so safe and familiar ( maybe because I've been using it as a refuge since I was 18).
I also feel so fortunate to have found the living situation that I did. It feels like a dorm, but more grown up. I have Kasie who is amazing and sweet, and then Megan who is funny and down for whatever, and the Cassandra who I can relate to on a personal level. We all live in this adorable little duplex with a nice little yard and a dog and a laundry room. Our own private community...and then with the boys who live in the front house, that adds to the whole experience...seeing as how they are male, like to party, have a great band, and are really really cool. I look forward to coming to my clean little home after work. My room here is fantastic...just the right size for me, cozy and private and safe.
I wonder where I'll be this time next year...things are never constant...ESPECIALLY out here. I hope that I have the strength I've always thought I had, I hope that I make wise choices, I want to do well and feel well and be happy. It's so scary when you realize that some of the things are not in your control.
Right now, I'm content. I feel like I've settled in...now onto Phase 2. I need to get organized, I need to start doing the things that I told myself I would do:
- Get in REALLY good shape
- Build and organize a make up kit for my freelance gigs
- Do yoga regularly
- Reorganize and renew my wardrobe
- Sign up for Improv classes
- Get a second job cocktailing
- Get my computer fixed and up and running to full speed
- Buy a digital camera
- Build my portfolio with aforementioned digital camera
I'm starting tomorrow. I shelled out 50 bucks for a brief personal training program, I'm signing up at a yoga compound ( really...I think it's a cult. But they do amazing yoga), I've been focusing on eating really healthy. I work everyday until Thursday...then its my three day birthday extravaganza. By NEXT monday I'm going to start looking for a second gig. Then once I have more money coming in I can get those classes, that camera, and the clothes.
I know it sounds vapid to want clothes...but I NEED to do an overhaul. It's so hard to land a job or secure a gig when you yourself look like a slob.
Someday I won't have to worry about that shit...but it's not someday yet.
I'm excited because Phil is flying in from Texas on Thursday to be at my party ( which I'm having at his house). My L.A. friends and my Redlands friends plan to be there, and I'm...FUCKING STOKED. I haven't had a good birthday party in years...then I have Friday to recover and then on Saturday night my mom is throwing me a party with all my family...and then I have Sunday to recover.
And then it's back to the motherfuckin GRIND.
Next year I want to look into going to make up school and maybe freelancing only for MAC. I'll cross that bridge next year, I don't know if I'd want to give up a permanent position...but we'll see.
I'm looking forward to flying up to San Francisco so see Adam, and fllying to New York to see Phil's show premiere, and driving to Tuscon with Adam to see Calexico. It's been a pretty good year, and it looks like I'll be wrapping it up right. |
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| No, I don't wish to change my service. |
[Nov. 6th, 2006|12:50 am] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Y Control ( Faint Remix) | ] |
Ao, I'm still going through this phase which consists of me being constantly overwhelmed and amazed by all of thise. I have a whole set of friends from the Los Angeles area now. I didn't have that two months ago. I am hanging out with people I do not have an extensive history with. That makes for a myriad of brand new emotions, and brand new ways of presenting myself as a person to others, and experiencing completely opposite personalities from what I'm use to. Now I understand why it's so important to break away for a time...it keeps you grounded and in touch with reality. You develop different parts of your personality that would've atrophied had you not taken some time to do something scary and uncertain.
Since I last wrote I:
-learned how to shoot a gun
- saw leonardo dicaprio, halle barry, and nicole kidman in the course of one week
- Had a real nice time with Mr. Hartnett
- applied to be a 3rd key manager at my store
- drank 40s with my downstairs roommate and ended up at the house of Jack Nicholson's daughter's baby daddy.
- learned that I have more noble men in my circle of friends than I once thought
- got a spinning on the 1s and 2s lesson from DJ Wes (1984), got stoned with Phil's roommates, baked mother fuckin cookies, ate said cookies. On a Saturday Night. We played lots of E-40 and Kelis. Oh, plus Pixies and Modest Mouse.
- hot reacquainted with old acquaintances
- was called a "little bitch" to my face by a customer. I'm sure you can guess how that all flew with me. I was shaking with anger. It felt really good to look her ( some snobby rich assmouth) in the face and respond with "Who, do YOU think YOU are?? WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE???!" which launched into me basically regulating on her ass loudly in front of everyone. I scared the shit out of her, and then I told her to leave.
My managers totally have my back too.
- had an unexpectedly nice Halloween
Tonight I totally hung out in my downstairs roommates (Cassandra and Megan) apartment with my rommate ( Kasie) and we were total girls and ate vegetarian pasta and watched desperate housewives and drank beer and smoked cigarettes. Then we all agreed to watch "Dexter" which resulted in this following exchange:
Megan: We should turn out the lights to make it scarier!
Cassandra: Well....it's not so much scary as it is.....mmmm....awesome.
Well, I mean... Cassandra said it really cute and I thought it was awesome. I guess you had to be there.
We also all enthusiastically agreed that Canadian women are starting to take all the men. I think that maybe they might taste like delicious maple syrup.
Oh hey, also...Cheerios are GOOOOD. You know??
I'm stoned.
Things'll calm down soon, I'm sure. |
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| Sweet sweet sign of relief (?) |
[Oct. 19th, 2006|05:39 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  blah | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | The Von Bondies- C'mon C'mon | ] |
I just don't know when to quit. Yesterday I did an amazing photo shoot with the excessively talented Casey Curry....rolled up to the Bigfoot Lodge around 5 dressed up like a trick with some capri cigarettes and 8 inch heels. Hilarity and genius ensued. You can see some of these pictures in the comments section of my myspace. Went back to his apartment and had thai saki or something ("chum churrrrummm!"). Discuss future shoots, plan some hang out time, leave his apartment.
After that I met up with Jason at Gingergrass for a nice meal and some conversation...he is a very nice boy.
Then I totally jumped in the car and drove down to the LBC to see my Dirty Uncle Joe at his comedy night that he hosts. It was pretty amazing, I got a free drink right off the bat from Todd...some cool black dude who studies comedy at Second City in Chicago. Spoke of california and it's residents and the pros and cons of it all. Ran around and talked to people, made eyes at DUJ, and got a little silly. Couldn't find my car. Found it later on. Had the WORST migraine of my life this morning and felt generally feverish. Slept all damn day and smoked pot. The girl at Chipotle gave me attitude:
Me: Can you make my burrito smallish?
Her: What??
Me: Can you make my burrito small...
Her: "Well it depends upon what you put in it!"
Me: Well...yea....but could you just cut down the normal portions?
Her: Like, you mean, light on the rice??
Me: What? No. Light on everything....just don't make it huge.
Her: Rolls her eyes and takes out her passive agression on my burrito. The quality suffers. I'm saddened inside.
Tonight I'm going with the boys in the front house (Oliver Fizzuture) to see a show and hang out, which is a nice little bright spot in my day.
I still feel shitty but the sun is setting and it's turning the living room a lovely rose hue and it's so pretty today balmy and temperate I'm still in such shock for the most part I simply must slow down on all this partying because it's worrying me and I'm exhausted but its all still so shiny and pretty and new
I hope I don't die here. |
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| When she doubles over sounds like Hallelujah. |
[Oct. 17th, 2006|08:13 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  amused | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Calexico- Guns of Brixton | ] |
Lassssst night I went to the Body Shop to hang out with Jeff, as I enjoy talking to him very much. Once there I strike up a conversation with a very nice ( very pretty) Australian girl with a sleeve of tattoos and legs for days. I asked her if maybe she wanted to go on a mini date and blow this joint. She says yes. I take her to the bar three doors down...alcohol poured, conversation resumes, shes really really pretty. I have a weird back and forth with girls...I'm not a lesbian and I wouldn't call myself bisexual...but I'm just so damn curious.
Phil's right...Australian girls use every vowel to say "no" :" NOoooouuuuuuueeeeeaa" <----or some shit akin to this. We make friends with a ruggedly handsome camera man named "Cory" and his friend "I don't know because I forget and he looked like The Dude from The Big Lebowski so I automatically assosiated him with this name so we'll just call him "The Dude" ". They're very nice. Good smiles. They buy us drinks.
More conversation right up until closing time. I offer to take her home, but she wants some food.
We make the trip to Mel's Diner, which just so happens to be right down the way. When we walk in ( Now.....this girl is very very tall...hot.tall.ok?) so...we walk in and this stupid cholo shouts out...in front of everyone..."DAMN! That's a tall bitch!! How tall are you guuurrrrl?!" this sets me off and I start giving him a "piece of my mind" as I'm wont to do. He starts yelling about my nipples that he can see through my shirt ( I hate bras) which riles me up EVEN more....but I brush it off and go to sit down with Legs and the NEXT thing we know, a table of guys from New York stand up to defend our honor. This is very flattering and awesome...however, I don't want them to die. This obviously doesn't fly too well with Mr. Vida Loca and BAM! Verbal smackdown promptly with fight. Then the rest of the diner gets involved, everyone taking sides and fighting.... the cholo screaming in gangster spanglish, New Yorkers claiming "east side" and "stepping up", a group of tattooed douches telling the New Yorkers to chill cos they ain't from this town and this town will FUCK YOU UP, some guys that look like they're in a mexican mafia start talking shit with their brown lipliner white lipstick= girlfriends. The waitstaff and busboys break it up before it gets too hairy. Various obscenities in spanish are exchanged, the police show up, things settle down, Kera and I find a back table and order her an orange sherbert banana split with cherries and chocolate syrup. This girl is TINY. It's pretty adorable watching her try to make a dent in her neon orange ice cream disaster thats so huge it could probably feed an entire village and give everyone diseases associated with high sugar diets. We marvel at the fuss we unintentionally caused. I offer to drive her home, and she looks happy/relieved that she isn't going to have to spend money on a taxi. We talk about how she wants to move out here but visas are a bitch. Funny, I bet she could find plenty of Americans willing to trade living situations with her.
We agree to meet up again next Monday.
Today was work, Erin, weed, Jackass 2 with Phil, weed, home. |
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| But even then it sounds so soothing, to mix a gin and slip into oblivion. |
[Oct. 16th, 2006|08:34 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  accomplished | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Cold War Kids- We Use to Vacation | ] |
Yes
Things in LA continue to baffle me...at this point I have a such a love/hate relationship for urban living.
Last week:
Monday: Went to amatuer night at The Body Shop. Mostly talked with Jeff all night ( the really really nice DJ. Totally not creepy) and smoked cigarettes and listened to what years of dancing and drugs sounds like ( sqwaky dramatic ramblings) and made it a point to remember that that is NOT what I want to be.
Tuesday: Went and saw Oliver Future. They are incredible. Dennis Rodman was there. A magician impressed me with some card tricks. Jesse and Josh of Oliver Future went to Cheetah's with me. We got wasted and then got lapdances. Went back to their place and smoked weed and partied. I was obnoxious and funny.
Wednesday: Worked with Erin...it's ridiculous when we get together. We're like...glued to the hip and talking/laughing CONSTANTLY. Girl bonds are rare, I love them when they happen. Todd tells me that Robert is going to see the Cold War Kids (!!!!!!!!) and has an extra ticket and wanted to know if I wanted it.
FUCK YES I DO. So, I go to Spaceland and meet up with Robert. Things get off to a rocky start..I'm exhausted...until the red bulls and vodka kick in to give me super powers. We enjoy the show, he disappears and returns bearing gifts! The CD and tshirt of the band. Goooood motherfuckin job. We go to the "smoking room" where a couple sleepy hipsters are still lazily having esoteric conversation. There is a DJ spinning Prince. Do these people not KNOW?? The Dj is spinnin motherfucking P-R-I-N-C-E. I leap to my feet and start dancing EVERYWHERE. I mean EVERYWHERE like Jamaroquoi and shit!!! This sparks....no no wait....this IGNITES a dance party. It's amazing. I sober up and go home.
Thursday: I don't remember right now. Oh wait! Went with Spencer to see DJ Wesley Snipes!!! Spencer picks me up and we go over to Broadway Bar...a really beautiful albeit creepy bar. LA downtown is a ghost town at night...no one hangs out or loiters. Have some drinks and good conversation, watch wes and jonathan spin and listen to the product. Spencer takes me through skid row at 1:00am...I want to make these people burritos and pass them out. I think I will.
Friday: work and rest. Oh, and chipotle! Then I go out with Jason and company to hang out and drink. Good times are totally had, his friends are good people. We walk over to his pa and smoke weed and watch Robot Chicken and I tell them about Knott's Berry Farm. We're all suppose to go soon. Fuck yes!
Saturday: Work. Post on craigslist that I need weed. Some guy tells me he has a bowl left and I can have it for free and it's mine if I want it. He lives down the street from me. So...I go down and take it. I am so stoked. Talk to Jeff for a while on the phone and meet up with him and and roomies at The Red Lion and talk and drink. Some boy in a nice 40ish hat gives me eyes...I look/feel like shit. So this blows my mind. He asks me for number. I told myself I wasn't going to give out my number anymore so I can concentrate on work. But, I break rules. Rob calls and we hang out for a little bit and we smoke weed and we crash. It was nice to see someone I know
Sunday: TJs hair show. Fuck. 21 girls. Make up from 1:30-7. But my art skillz are appreciated, and the girls look great and I'm glad to have been a part of it. TJ gives me credit and sends me down the runway. I go out drinking with my mom. Get drunk. Shaina comes to the bar, we hang out with Jimmy ( my ex-nemisis) and have a real nice time. We go to Shaina's house and continue to drink, Matt and Brandon come over. We ALL drink. I wake up in Shaina's bed fully clothed next to Brandon who is fully clothed. So, that's nice.
I'm so tired. |
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