Can I keep it?

My roomie and I were watching City of Ember (thank you HBO, for exposing me to such gems). We caught only the last 30 minutes or so but basically the city is underground and fueled by blahblahblah.. doesn't matter. What does matter is the bad guy runs into some sort of safe room and locks himself in. Then he turns around and a GIANT MOLE comes out out and eats him. It had a big, pink tentacle face and was really ugly.

Roomie: It's a giant mole!

Me: With a tentacley face!

Roomie: Ya, there's moles that have that.

Me: Really?! Noo!

Roomie: Yes! Look it up!

So I did. And there are. They are called Star-nosed moles and they pretty disgusting...

Maybe you all have heard about them but I had no idea. Anyway.. I leave you with this lovely photo. He's blowing bubbles underwater to smell his food.. or something.

You can never be a pencil.

Yesterday I watched a guy (alone in his car) impatiently drive up behind me on the freeway (I was cruising about 80) and then move over into the carpool lane to go around me because 80 just wasn't fast enough.

I, in turn, shouted "You are not a carpool lane, asshole!"

This was true. He was not a carpool lane though there's not much to be done about that.

Chocolate is a girl's best friend

"Some love stories aren't epic novels, some are short stories. But, that doesn't make them any less filled with love."

Probably the only good thing to come out of the Sex and the City movie.

That aside... I've been a single woman for a few months now. It's taken up until a few weeks ago to really be O.K. with being single. It's like gaining and loosing weight. It's really easy to gain weight, as it is to fall into the pattern of a relationship. It's much more difficult to loose weight, just as it takes a lot more time and effort to get used to being alone. But I made it and I am on the prowl to find a new man. Though I have tons of theories about dating that I don't need to go into today. Here's the basic 411: I believe that the relationships that are meant to be, the ones that are going to last longer than 3 months, are the ones that develop on their own.

Call it a connection, spark, whatever, when you meet someone that you are truly compatible with, there is just something there. You can argue that if you want but I know it to be true because I've experienced it. Yes, being single is kinda lame. Scratch that, it down right sucks. I am the type of person that is made to be in relationships. I am looking for that one guy that I will, hopefully, spend the rest of my life with. Consequently, casually dating just doesn't do it for me. Since my adventure back into singledom, people have been "encouraging" about going out with different guys. Whether it be old friends or someone new that I meet. While I appreciate the concern for my love lacking situation, I keep reminding everyone that when it happens, it happens.

In the meantime I need to stop hanging out with so many of my guy friends (I love you all but you cramp my man-picking-up style) and will continue to eat lots and lots of chocolate.

If you own a BMW, drive it like a BMW

Living in LA, I run into a lot of bad drivers. A lot. In fact, so much that I am more than positive that there are many posts to come about how much I hate driving in LA. Today is just the beginning.

Anyway, one thing that really irks me is slow drivers... but not just any slow drivers. I mean the drivers who drive like a grandpa in a car like this:

It's an insult to the rest of population who would love to be able to zip around in something like that. Even if you are going to drive the speed limit, well, I can't really blame you there for following the law. But at least get up to speed before we hit the next traffic light! If I am accelerating faster than you in my 16 yr old P.O.S.*, there is a problem. Grandpa drivers deserve grandpa cars. Stop making me sad.

*My car is a 1994 Plymouth Acclaim... don't know what that is? Watch this and learn:

I wish my car held 6 big, gorgeous men...

A very dim Glow

Yesterday I attended Glow. The event itself: under whelming. The art was weird and you had to walk half a mile to each exhibit (okay, not really but it felt like that after hours of walking/skipping/holding mario kart races in sand). For anyone considering making a special trip next year to go visit it, I would tell you to save yourself the trouble and go to a local art show. The fact that it's free is the only redeeming quality.

That being said, I had a frikkin awesome time! But mostly it was hanging out and enjoying my friends. And the drunk girl who sat throwing up in the sand 10 feet away from us.

Film of people hanging out at the beach with creepy piano music playing

"Walk to the Ocean"... exactly how it sounds, you walk under lights to the water

Kinda fun, people singing karaoke in a tent. The face is a projection of singer in a balloon

Galaxy defenders

There is a building that I walk by on a semi regular basis. It's along a main road, amidst other perfectly normal buildings. There's some offices, a Pizza hut, stuff like that. Like a strip mall, all the buildings are connected but they all have individual fronts. 

The particular building in questions is all white brick and about twice the size as the rest. There are no windows. There is one door centered in the sea of white. It has a pretty intense handle and simply says ENTRANCE in royal blue letters.

Among all the other buildings, this one stands out. It's creepy and ominous. I've always wanted to go inside, half expecting it to look like the building from Men in Black. Who knows what kind of crazy shenanigans go on behind that mysterious door...

Today I found out that building is just a contact manufacturer. Such a let down.

Why, yes, my hair naturally grows in stripes

The other day a good friend of mine just noticed that I had parts of my hair dyed black. I’ve had my hair this way for some time now but he hadn’t realized (granted, he is a boy).

Anyway, I was just surprised that he had never noticed and wondered how many other people hadn’t noticed so I’m going to share my hair with the world and then no one will not notice again! I stole/was inspired by two dye jobs that I liked. I took the ideas that I loved and came up with my own attempt at an effortlessly cool style. It’s subtle when my hair is down and makes an impact when I pull my hair back.

(I'm really picky about my photos, so the creepy smiley face allows me to skip the trouble of trying to look good)

And regardless of whether anyone else likes it or not, I love it. Every day when I’m done blow drying my hair, I have the passing thought of how awesome it is. To me at least.

Although, I would like to point out that there is nothing cool about walking around the apartment like this for 30 minutes:

 

So far back that it wasn't in the day, it was before the day

Like so many other people, I have friends on facebook who I knew so many years ago and have never talked to since we "friended" each other. I honestly try to avoid that. Just recently I was home visiting the 'rents and I showed my mom a picture of a guy I knew way back when who has since turned into a total hunk. She immediately said I should friend him and I refused because that's just awkward to me. "Hi, I know we weren't that close freshman year of high school and we live in different cities, but you're really hot now. Let's be friends!" If I'm doing that then I might as well try to hook up with total strangers, from all over! (I do love me an Irish accent)

But I digress, this is not what I am here to talk about today. What I am here to talk about is the people that I have already friended on facebook. One of them I just heard from very recently. I found it a little odd that this is the 2nd time I've heard from him in.. 7 years? Although at some point since then we obviously both thought it was a good idea to be friends on facebook so why not. The first time I heard from him was a few years ago. I got a message from him with a basic "I just remembered the time when ___ and wanted to see whats up". I was pleasantly surprised and responded, asking how he was doing and what not. I never heard back so I assumed he wrote me drunk and then decided not to pursue it any further. No worries.

So this second time, while it was just a little comment, still caught me off guard. Mostly because it was about a note (the facebook kind, but what also became my first blog on here) which means that he took a full minute of his time to actually see what I had written (probably because porn was in the title - no judgement!).

There is a part of me compelled to now reach out and say hello (I like to play the catch up game with old friends), but I probably won't if we're being honest (which I always am). But it certainly got me thinking about the good ol' days which I feel like sharing in this now nostalgic state of mind.

This particular boy (L) and another boy (W) lived on my street. Then there were two other boys (M, MM). They were all friends before I so awesomely wandered into their lives. I actually had met MM in fourth grade. My best friend and I both had a crush on him. He liked her, not me. It was a sad time for me. I went to a different elementary school for fifth grade and promptly starting dating Alex Poore, the cutest boy in school. Suck it MM. Sixth grade we all ended up in middle school together.

Honestly, I don't remember how I reconnected with MM but I feel like it was partly through my best friend (who "dated" him up through 8th grade - probably on and off. I don't remember) and partly through L and W because we rode the bus together.

We all became good friends and I became a sort of honorary boy. At least that's how it felt. When all the boys got together at L or W's house, I got to hang out too. I loved those boys and we had some good times. If any of them ever read this, I would wonder if they remember "mango" (I will not divulge our awesome inside joke). I had my first "drink" with them. But you can't even call it that. I think we were in 8th grade (parents, dont judge me) and we were at L's house. He had a bottle of Kahlua of which was poured into a glass. I took the tiniest sip of that syrupy disgustingness and that was it for a few years (raging alcoholic). We also all carved our initials into a tree across the street. I like to take a peek and see if its still there when I visit home. I'm a girl like that.

I remember talking to W and L on AIM (haha, best ever) until all hours of the morning. One night in particular L and I were talking about how we would still be friends 10 years from then and it would be awesome. Well, we weren't friends about a year or so after that. Such is life.

As we moved into high school, it got complicated. Suddenly I was most definitely a girl and they were boys. I think at one point all of the boys had a crush on me. I am not trying to sound vain, but what do you expect when one of your closest friends is female at that age? It was when I started to feel something for one of them and then he went on vacation and came home and it was weird and the whole thing sorta went downhill from there. It didn't help that they all played football and became part of the cool, popular boys. Let's just say I didn't fit in with the popular girl (who of course hung out with the popular boys. Although I was never picked on by any means... it was more this time of my life that I realized I am not your typical female). Anyway, so that was that. We lived out the rest of our high school lives very differently from that point on.

I'm friends with MM on Facebook and I have *never* spoken to him. In recent months I had noticed an odd status update and so I looked into it and found out his mom passed away this year. So tragic. I wanted to send him a message but I felt silly (don't ask why, these human emotions are weird). But I feel for him and was so truly sorry to find out about his loss. We are too young of an age to have to be dealing with the loss of parents yet. I highly doubt he'll find his way over to my blog, but if he, or anyone who knows him reads this, pass on the message for me.

Anyway, there's a little trip down memory lane for you guys. Sometimes when I think back on those boys I wonder if they even remember that period of time when I hung out with them. It was so long ago that I was a part of that group and atleast three of them are still close friends. There's alot of memories that could have replaced those old ones. Regardless, I definitely remember and I am so grateful, as with all close friends I've had (and lost) over the years, that it lasted while it did.


I'm throwing in my 7th grade and senior photos for good measure. It's safe to say that I have blossomed since I left school.

Hissy hiss

The past few days I've had a reoccurring itch on my back between my shoulder blades. Today I noticed there's an area roughly the size of my hand that is really bumpy. I haven't changed my diet, haven't worn any new jewelry... I haven't done anything out of the ordinary. My only two conclusions are...

1. I am having the worlds slowest allergic reaction to nothing...

2. I am turning into a lizard woman

I think I can rock it.

“I don't believe in reincarnation, but I did in my past life.”*

If you looked up contradiction in the dictionary, you would see a picture of me there. I’m a walking, talking, breathing paradox. I literally can full-heartedly agree with both sides of an argument. My dear Italian friend and I were once having an intense discussion about me. He finally just leaned back in his chair, just gave me a look of hopelessness, and stated: “You’re a complete contradiction!”

It’s a talent for sure. I am a complicated and yet simple person. I am such a girl and such a boy. My mom and I like to describe me like a boy in the form of a girl. I love my 5 inch heels and makeup. I love to look and feel pretty. I also love to drink beer, scream at the TV when the Charger’s make a bad pass (or a good one!) and play video games (while wearing my heels and makeup, thank you). I think you get the point.

There has only been one moment in my life where I went completely over to the dark side (which is the girl side, btw). It was awful and I hope to never experience it again (no offense females of the world). When it comes to low points in life, especially low points in love, I am a very level-headed person. Unlike other females, I think with my head and not my heart. No, I’m not a cold hearted bitch without feelings. I feel all of them. However, I can always reason myself through those feelings and come out the other end happy and a little more enlightened.

Then I met that guy. He wasn’t *that* special. I mean, he was, but I eventually was able to realize there are going to be plenty of other special guys out there just like him. See? Reasoning and coming back to reality. Loves it.

To put it simply, we met. We hung out. I had an amazing time (I’m still not sure where he ever stood, but hey, you can’t know everything). I really liked him, and for someone like myself who is very outspoken and outgoing, he made me nervous and shy. I really wanted for it to work out. And then grand ol’ Life got in the way and it was ripped out from under my feet. For those few who were involved in the healing process of that one, I both thank you and apologize. It kinda wrecked me. I cried and I listened to a lot of sappy music. I barely *knew* him! It was completely ridiculous! You know how, in the movies, when two characters come together and by the end of the movie they are in love when in reality they’ve known each other for FIVE DAYS?! Absurd! And yet, I felt like that was me (without the happy ending). I couldn’t believe I was so upset over someone I had barely known. And yet, here I was… a mess because of some guy. I remember saying to my good friend: “I’m such a GIRL right now! I don’t know what’s wrong with me?!”

That one took a while to get over. Aside from the fact that I was completely not myself, I like to have closure in my life and I never got it. Since then I have vowed to never let myself be in that position ever again. I spent a lot of time analyzing what happened and how I ended up feeling the way I did. To break it down into basics:

-I had just gotten out of a relationship, and while I truly was over it, I didn’t give myself a chance to get used to being single again. It was too easy to shift the relationship comfort to another poor, unsuspecting guy.

-Do not ever be friends on Facebook with someone you are casually hanging out with. This is a new rule for me. If it’s someone I already know and then we start dating, I think I will just have to defriend them until after a 3 month period. If something goes wrong, you don’t want their face popping up and staring at you on that stupid news feed.

-I have always had a thing about trust. People are not trustworthy, even those you think are, they aren’t. Maybe that sounds negative but I can honestly tell you that I always know who my real friends are. I totally broke my unspoken rule and put my faith in this boy who I didn’t know. See how that turned out? Exactly.

-I got too wrapped up in the “what could be” and not the “what was”. This was the one that I hated myself for. While there were a lot of great “signs” there, there was also all the big, flashing red lights that this was not a good idea. I chose to ignore those. Mistake.

So, there you go. For a period of way too long in my life I was a full-fledged female. It was a horrible experience and I hope I never go through it again. Since then I am glad to be back to my boy/girl self. I am back to rock ‘n’ roll and all things generally awesome. It feels fan-frikkin-tastic (except that whole unemployment dillio).

Here's a little nugget of wisdom for the boys out there…

If you ever see a girl headed down this road (ie. She tells you that she really likes you and doesn’t want to get hurt) and if you, for ANY reason feel like you can’t step up to the plate, just end it. Talk to her, if you can’t talk in person, call her. If you can’t do that... email, text, facebook… there comes a point when anything is better than nothing. I don’t accept excuses, I only accept actions. Because, despite whatever lip service you give, not saying anything is *choice* and incredibly selfish one at that. So please…

**

As a side note, two Jehovah's witnesses came to my door this morning. I've never had this problem before so I opened the door without checking who it was first and was immediately stuck. Now, when it comes to telemarketers, I don't feel too bad cutting them off with a "sorry, I'm not interested" and hanging up. It's much harder to slam the door in the face of some tiny women. So we talked for few minutes and I kept trying to end of the conversation. Bitch was good. But she finally seemed to agree that no one was going to change my mind about how I feel about religion and it's probably not worth coming back, under the condition that she could leave two little magazines with me. I told her I would read them and I will. It never hurts to see another perspective. But I can also tell you that if I ever decide to pick up a new religion, it's not going to be one that I can't celebrate my birthday.

*Author unknown

**Picture stolen from The Art of Manliness. I haven’t checked out the site yet but I am intrigued and will do so at a later date.

2 blogs in the matter of a few hours just proves my point

Unemployment is a bitch. I’m not talking about the inability to pay for rent, food, and other basic needs. Or even the not basic needs like wanting to go out with your friends for a drink or attend a concert.

I’m talking about how it sucks you dry from the inside. It’s been almost a month since I’ve had paid work and in that time I only worked a total of a few days for free. Luckily, I once again have a day job (thank you dear managers at Urban for hiring me) that I am starting in October after I finish working on my good friend’s thesis film. In the meantime I have been going bat shit crazy and fighting to not let myself to digress to this:

Not the 12 year old boy part of course. I mean the lazy, fatty part. Sitting in front of the tv all day, eating, and doing nothing. It’s amazing how addicting it is, even when you hate yourself for doing it.

At first unemployment wasn’t horrible. I had the chance to catch up on little things like cleaning and laundry that are hard to get done when you are busy. Then I realized that when you have a full day, every day, to get these things done, you really quickly run out of things to do. Let me point out also that all my good friends are incredibly busy right now and as a result, have no time to hang out with bored little me. Even my best friend, who I live with, is working, in school, and generally spends what little free time she has with her boyfriend. Finally, I am incredibly single right now. There is absolutely no male interest in my life that I can leech onto until this phase passes. So where does that leave me?

Well, first I spent a lot of time reading. I read at home, I’d go read at café’s, I would go to Borders and stare at books. I have no problem going out and doing things on my own but a lot of activities require money. So I was stuck with books. (It was in this period of time that I helped out on a short for free which was something that quickly came and went)

Next stage was about two weeks in. I figured I would go home to see my family for a weekend. Why not? I wasn’t doing anything else with my time. Went home Friday night as per usual. Hung out until Sunday, then Sunday turned into Monday and Monday into Tuesday. After four days I was bored and anxious. There’s only so much time you can spend sitting around with your brother’s playing video games before you have the itch to get back into the “real world”.

So, back I came and then quickly remembered how much my “real world” sucked right now. No job, no money, and for all intents and purposes, no friends. So one of my very dull mornings, I decided to finally watch The Cove. If you haven’t seen it, you must. I bawled. I have a fierce love of animals, especially dolphins (anyone who knows me can attest to this). I cried almost as hard as I did when I broke up with my boyfriend a few months ago. The result of this was a major quarter life crisis in which I was convinced that I needed to go back to school to become a marine biologist so that I could go out and save the dolphins. I mean, I was serious. I was researching colleges and emailing professors. Ridonkulous. Not that I don’t want to save the dolphins still but I am not a math/science geek. I hate that shit. Luckily, the next few days I slowly came to my senses when I realized that every job outcome I looked into would make me completely miserable. I did, however, realize that I truly want to make more of myself and my life and am currently working on getting heavily involved in volunteering and raising awareness about things that I am passionate about. (Thank you quarter life crisis!)

So that leaves us with the present and my desperate attempt to not become the chubby 12 year old boy above. Although I’m about to get back on track again in a few weeks, right now every day is dull and lifeless. I find myself having to write lists to motivate me to actually get shit done. If I don’t, I end up sitting in front of the TV all day watching the same 5 HBO movies. The time both flies and drags by. It’s the most painfully boring day but suddenly its dinner time and I look back and think to myself: WTF. I hate myself for sitting around and doing nothing. Yet, at the same time, I don’t *want* to do anything.

I certainly have stuff that needs to be done, I just need to get off my lazy ass and do it. For instance, cleaning my room. It’s a clear indication of my singledom because it looks like this happened:

I think my parents need to come over and threaten to not let me hang out with my friends until I pick it up. Oh wait…






P.S. I am waiting for the inevitable phone call/text/facebook message from my mother after she reads this to tell me to get off my lazy butt and "work on Jesse's costume and call Camille!" Yes mom, I know.

Cha-cha-changes

So, less than 24 hours after I came up with my *brilliant* new blog, I decide to see what else is out there and I come across this bad boy. Nothing too bad until I scrolled down and found this little post. (Warning: XXX rated)

While I do love the gay boys, I don't need nor want my blog to be relatable. That's just not my cup of tea... and if I'm going to be perfectly honest, I have a huge issue with being comparable to anyone. I don't know if it was how I was raised or just some sort of gene defect, but I have an insatiable need to always feel incomparable. Not that I have to be better, just different.

For example, at some point in high school, BEFORE it was cool, I really like the idea of dying the under part of your hair dark. Then suddenly everyone was doing it! As much as I wanted to, I held out until the next hair phase came along and THEN I went ahead and dyed the underpart of my hair black. I must say, it was cute. I had red hair with black underneath and it was a short, flippy do. Totally worth the wait.

I buy what I like, I do what I like, I listen to the music I like. I happen to like pretty much everything, so sometimes it coincides with the latest trends in life... but I take comfort that there are OTHER things I like that are not trendy, and therefore I stay my own person. There is a wonderful quote from E.E. Cummings: "To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best day and night to make you everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight, and never stop fighting." The people who can't are either lazy or too worried about pleasing everyone. It takes someone who knows and is comfortable with who they are, all the bad and good, to be able to say: "This is who I am. Deal."

Anyway, I am going to stop myself now before this turns into a novel (I can talk for hours about individuality) and just say to Barrio Boy in Miami, Florida: you can have your stupid blog title. I came up with my own, damn it.

French men, Venice, and valley porn = 10 minutes of my life I want back

This is my first blog of what could be many a blog or a complete failure. Either way, I feel like I find myself in enough odd situations living here in the City of Angels that they need to be shared with the world. One incident in particular has inspired me to start this blog and so, naturally, I'm going to share.

Today I was walking 'round my neck of the woods and, by the ventura blvd/van nuys intersection, some guys shouted at me from their car. I briefly glanced over with every intention of ignoring them as I normally do but the one in the passenger seat asked me, in a thick accent, for directions. I have a few friends who think I'm "too nice". I think that's generally a load of bull but then I find myself in awkward situations such as this..

So I indulge the man and ask where he is trying to go. He pulls out a pad of paper with all sorts of random places listed and points to "TGI Friday". I told them I don't know where one is in the area to which point he ask if I'm from around. I tell him I'm generally familiar but I don't know where there is a TGIF. Then he tries to ask me where the beach is. Now, at this point, the light has long turned green and they are holding up traffic in the right hand turn lane and people are being generally patient and I am trying to get rid of them. So as I stand there awkwardly, people finally start to honk so they pull into the gas station.

The two guys get out and one immediately lights a smoke. Let me just take a moment to describe these two really quickly.. the driver was a beer bellied, creepy guy wearing a velvet or cord jacket. I didn't look at him long enough to notice. The other guy looked like a Jersey Shore Guido, complete with slicked hair and a shirt way too tight. Anyway, the Guido tells creepy guy to put out his smoke and then asks me, "isn't it illegal to smoke at a gas station in America?". I responded with a simple, "Only if you don't want to blow up and die". Granted, he was standing on the sidewalk smoking but it was still too close for comfort for me.
So then I proceed to write directions down on the notepad to the beach, Malibu to be exact. This is the conversation that follows (as best as I understood/can remember).

Guy1: So you work around here?
Me: In the area..
Guy1: What do you do?
Me: I work in film.
Guy1: In porno?!
Me: God, no!
Guy1: But isn't this where the porn stars are? [Blahblah], didn't [Blahblah] say this is where the porn stars are?
Guy2: Yes *smoke smoke*
Me: Umm.. well its just an industry joke. I mean.. they film porn here but..
Guy1: We are looking for the porn stars. I am sorry, I offended you. *to other guy* I think she's upset.
Me: Where exactly are you trying to go?
Guy1: To find the porn stars. First they tell us Sepulveda, then they tell us Venice beach. I don't know.
Me: Well, Sepulveda is a road over there *point*
Guy1: Will it take me to the beach?
Me: It can but the freeway is faster.
Guy1: We need to get to Venice beach. We were hired to film the porno.
Me: Umm okay...

At this point I scribbled down directions and got ready to run for my life. Then I get this lovely question...

Guy1: So can I have your number? We might get lost and need directions.
Me: I'm not giving you my number. You can stop and ask for directions again.
Guy1: But I don't think anyone will be as nice as you.
Me: Probably not. So good luck with that.
Guy1: Are you going to work?
Me: Um, no.
Guy1: Where are you going? Do you need a ride?
Me: I'm fine, thanks.

Then he said something that I can't remember that I believe was completely DEVOID of any accent. Its vague because I was already running away.

I'm not sure if this was A) a lengthy way of trying to get my number, B) a "sly" way of trying to get me to star in a porno with them, C) an attempt at raping/killing me, or D) all of the above.

I suspect D.