Time Machine: Lost My Seat Again 3/19/09

[THIS WAS A VIDEO FOR A YEAH YEAH YEAHS SONG THAT DOESN'T EXIST ONLINE ANY LONGER. BOOO DRM.]

Love love love this song, for like, ever. Just recently though, I found the video. It's everything I hoped it would be. Ha.

Okay it takes me a very long time to get past things. I attribute this to the fact that I'm super sensitive, but also to the fact that it takes me so long to get into something in the first place.

There are all of these walls. I have to break them down one by one to even get excited about something.

Ironically, I'm usually only about halfway through that process before I have to start building them again. But it still takes a very long time.

Me and my bricks and my mortar. And my love songs. And jazzy outfits.

We'll be here building this wall again, thanks.

The good thing about how long it takes is that once it's done, it's done. I'm bullet proof again. That has its pros and cons, but overall I'm pleased to be able to be flippant about it.

Once the walls are back up I can start coming up with smartass responses and janky metaphors.

For instance: a few days ago my boy gave me shit about how quick my last relationship was. He squinted his eyes to make the whole thing seem smaller, but accidentally blinked and it turned into dust.

I corrected him. You see, he shouldn't have bothered to even narrow his eyes since it was dust to begin with. Flim-flam! Tomfoolery! Someone else's fucked up idea of high jinks.

Pretty funny when you see it that way, right? Let's call it a practical joke, like someone prank called my whole fucking life.

Hilarious.

*********

Tonight these people came from Facebook to my job. We spent an hour or so listening to them talk and that was cool, but better was the free drinks we got after. I sat at a table with the cool kids and got to' up.

Now I'm here. Instead of at the reggae club. This is just as well since I'm in the mood for trouble.

*********

Last night I dreamed I was hanging out with Snoop Dogg. We walked all around town arm in arm looking for his car. We were gonna drive to the top of a hill and watch the sunset, smoke some reefer.

We never got that far. But searching for it was pretty fuckin pleasing, in any case.

I hope tonight I dream about Method Man. And tomorrow: Benicio Del Toro.

Soon my waking life will be just as adventurous and romantic, yes? But I'm in no rush.

I'm busy here in my jazzy outfits, repainting the walls I just finished rebuilding. They'll be as gorgeous as ever, they will glimmer in the sunlight.

You've never seen walls as gorgeous as mine.

Ha.



I hope you've had a good night.

Good night.

Staccato Sunday

I only feel the need to type in fits and starts. This is mostly images. I'm mostly caught in camera flashes, or on smoke breaks. I throw the peace sign too often. I'm really not that peaceful.



I'm hanging out with my 13 year old niece a lot. She blows my mind, I have to think a mile a minute to keep up with her. Yesterday she showed me all of her myspace friends. Like 4 girls and 5 million boys.



I asked one hundred questions. I would have asked more, but there were old people in the room. I realized there's a lot I should probably be talking to her about. Stuff that I'm really the only one in a great position to address.





Main rule: Any question I ask her. Any question at all. She has the option of mirroring back at me before she answers it. I promise not to ask her anything I wouldn't be willing to tell her about myself. I want us both on even ground. I want her to have everything.




And we laugh a lot. Her little boyfriend's name is Jake. I call him Jake the Great, and tell her how I'm going to show up on one of their hangout sessions to talk about tampons and High School Musical.





And I don't have words for how pretty she is. I catch myself just staring at her. She has no idea. None at all. And I suppose this is the way it always goes. I remember my auntie looking at me the same way.





So there is that. And also this daily effort to get Better at life. I hate the idea of stagnating, refusing to improve. If there exists a ladder, and I'm going to bother to be on it, I'm finna climb it, reach the top, then find another ladder.

That's my style.




But still: lots to do that I'm not doing. So much sewing to do! So much writing, as well. I'm supposed to be making my Real Life in my spare time but instead I think I'm mingling and enjoying free cocktails and figuring out different ways to cross and uncross my legs.

But you know, every fucking thing a person does can be Art. If you don't agree you're just lazy.

Or uninspired.

Happy Sunday. I have to be to work at 7 AM tomorrow for this major thing that's happening, wish me luck okay?

Surplus

The sweet dreams paid off. Today went swell, nothing major just that I got everything done that I needed to.

I'm kicking this off with a ridiculously cute picture of a kitten, just because I can.



There. Satisfaction. His name is Lemon Drop.

From here on out I could say anything and this would still be worth your time.



I have an insane amount of pictures from my new camera. Not sure if it was an upgrade, really. But it's black and sleek, and fits in my back pocket.

So I take it everywhere. I have more pictures than I need.



Yesterday I spent 3 hours shopping with Liz. She has an event and we were picking out clothes to make her look fierce and on the way I was looking for something to wear to work. She settled on sexy riot boots and fishnets. I settled on a white shirt with a panda on the front.

I like to gloss under black lights. It makes me feel like a scene out of Belly.



Thursday night I went with Rachel and Robin to the Academy of Sciences to listen to DJs and look at exhibits. There was expensive food there, and I drank chardonnay and made funny faces at the fish.

I found a million little things of interest. These are just the CliffsNotes.



Not that it matters, but I couldn't possibly keep it all in mind. Everything I read. I appreciate the grandness of that place. The high ceilings and the sounds and the smells. At night it's even better, it was like a fantastic cocktail party with an albino alligator and an indoor rain forest.

There was even upside down jellyfish. Score.



See what had happened was we had someone take a picture of us standing in front of a moody blue fish tank, and Robin and I really loved it. But Rachel didn't. Luckily I'd been snapping photos of Rachel being fresh in front of the multicolored amazon fish so it was pretty easy to find a better picture.

I photoshopped cute Rachel on top of janky Rachel when I got home that night. Drunk.



Ta daaaaaaaaaa.

I went to the comic book store today. My head is filled with all kinds of impossible pictures. That should make dreaming pretty fun. I'll keep you posted.

Life On Earth

I went to brunch at the Cliff House today, for the novelty of it. But my stupid camera broke last night so I only have cameraphone pictures. They are barely worth sharing. For instance, there was a girl sitting on the rocks here, but you can't even see her.





I met Deb when I was producing photo shoots for my job. She's an artist's agent and I love to hang out with her because she's got great stories and a super relaxed attitude. Her spirit is young and she has a lot of freedom. It's charming.





She told me today that she once went on a cruise from New York to London, and David Bowie was on the boat. There were a lot of parties. Jeez.





I punked out today on the shooting range. Is that shocking? I'm kind of a nerd when it comes to things I've never done before, it's not the prettiest side of me. I won't ever be as free as Deb is with an attitude like that, I know. It's tricky, though.





Working on it. But last night I went kind of hard and tonight I am just preparing all of this stuff for Monday. Work is fun but it is no grand adventure. It is no transatlantic cruise with David Bowie, that's for sure.

I'll be free soon enough.

Her Hardest Hue to Hold

I'm running out of new fantastic configurations to put my hair into. And to let you know how my mind works: that makes me want to cut it all off, even though I *know* that would actually result in me having less options. Word.

Just once more. Five minutes. A fortnight. With a kicky little bob.





If you want to hear me squeal and laugh, and we're at some sort of sports event and everyone is drinking beer. Bring me a burgundy can of sparkling wine that comes with a matching straw. Yeah. Sofia Coppola, you're savvy.

$6 a can. What a smart fucking idea.

Selling it, not buying it. Ha.





My friend did an impression of the look on my face when Hatton got knocked out. I was distressed. I wanted that fight to end like, 2 minutes into round 1. I just kept drinking champagne through a little straw and occasionally covering my eyes, though.

It didn't end much later than that, in any case.





I've been reading Cheri before bed, it's giving me wild dreams.

Heaven Holds A Place For Those Who Pray

Hey hey hey.

I'm writing this with a hot cup of tea and an optimo. It's late.

Last night I had a work thing after work, and then we went out for a hundred Italian appetizers and wines I couldn't pronounce, and as I was heading home Lyssie texted me that she was going to Club Six.

That's where I ended up, and got to sleep at 3 or so? I had to be to work at 8:30.

All this to explain why I came home from work to take a 3 hour nap and wake up too late to call anyone, but too early to go straight to bed.

And all of that to explain why I am here.





I'm watching The Graduate, with the sound mostly off. There's this 5 or 10 minute music video, right in the middle of it, after he has sex with Mrs. Robinson for the first time. I turned the sound on for that.

Everything else up til then is just smokey glances and cigarettes and oh my gosh. Where did she ever get so many lovely bra and half-slip combos? Leopard and giraffe prints. Sparkling ones. Jeez.

In the beginning, most of the movie is that she's draping herself over furniture in those outfits, exhaling cigarette smoke really loudly with this awesome punk rock hairdo. She's insane and everything but it's pretty fucking fantastic to behold.





Like Scarface, I really only like this movie up to a certain point. Now they are laying in bed and arguing about whether or not he's going to date her daughter. All. Bad. From here on out I find it tedious and a little draining.

When that happens. And it is a movie. You can just turn the channel, flip the switch. Like I am doing right now.

When that happens. And it is real life. Whole other motherfucking story.

Well. It *should* be. Ha.





My girl told me today that she would make me a website if I'd take my creativity more seriously. She's top notch, and that is a super generous offer. So now I have to take one of the classes I've been telling myself I would take for the last year, but not taking.

I need to understand better how to make something from scratch.

I'll sleep on it.

Night.

Comfort Food

Staying with the Frisco love theme, I woke up this morning and put on my niners t-shirt, this flashy vintage number from eighty something I think. And then I went to Tommy's Joynt, which is like. Lots of basic comfort food for almost no money. And kitsch galore.



I've been craving comfort food lately. I think it's because I'm honing the art of reducing the Things I miss to just things. Items I could write on a list and check off as I get them one by one. I'm not leaving any room for uncertainty. I'll have it all, one way or another.

Note: Because I go from who I really am to That Girl in about 30 seconds it's pretty crucial for me to keep it at a level. I did that this weekend like a pro, as a result I'm getting way more quality time with my new dress form. Ha.



Freedom isn't free, though. You know that as much as I do. I could read these archives going back for weeks and find like, I don't know, 10 flashes of Truth. Everything else would be just as well in a diary.

But I'm keeping lines of communication open. Because I'm never sure what's going to happen next. I'm at my best, creatively speaking, when my heart or my self is completely smashed.

I wrote a letter last night with the paragraph:

when i marry rich. if i marry rich. it will be at least one third for the purpose of acquiring the freedom to get fucked up publicly, and then write about it.

Until then. You have me, but tamed.



Along with my Niners shirt today I wore these perfectly matched sneakers. A gift from my ex-boyfriend like 3 years ago? They still look really tight though, because I tend to keep them under wraps. They are my perfectly preserved Christmas morning, with that boy.

Oh boy.

I have a whole museum of my heartbreaks stacked up in sneaker boxes against my bedroom wall.

Happy Sunday.

Spring Ahead

Jasmine lives by Ghirardelli Square and I'm almost never in that neighborhood. I texted her at like noon today to see what she was up to. She sleeps in like me, so she was just getting around to deciding on a long walk.

I said hell yes because I never do shit like that anymore. I'm only ever walking *to* somewhere, and that's pretty pointless when you think about it.





We ended up with just the prettiest views of the Golden Gate Bridge. It was really beautiful outside today. Afterward we ate this massive dinner and blew too much money on Bellinis with tourists. But it was worth it, I needed out of my head.

Oh bless you, San Francisco, for still being able to thrill me!





Last night I worked and it was a blast. The music was great and there were a few superstars but all the eye candy just made me pensive. I'm on the fence about what I'm up to lately, but I realized last night that if I am looking for something more substantial I'm not likely to find it in a nightclub. It's empty out there, and pretty ruthless. Bunny's unimpressed.

I went to sleep lamenting a lack of real-life superheroes and woke up deciding I should probably just be one. I mean, could I ever be happy otherwise?

I only ever want everything larger than life. Whoah.





I spent all night tonight sewing. This stuff I'm working on is due Monday and I've put the least fun parts off until last so I am on restriction until it's done. Tomorrow will be more of the same.

I got a project on Friday that makes me really excited for work next week. I guess we lost an hour this weekend, but I'm totally okay with that.

Monday can show up early, for all I care.

Bring It On,

Angelina

Bunny Bunny Bunny

I am overflowing with love lately, so have decided to get a pet. I was sold on a hamster cause they are easy and cute and come with all kinds of cool accessories.

But now I'm thinking it's gotta be a bunny.



Yesterday went perfectly. I texted Alyssa at just the right time with my pet shopping plans and she totally needed someone to help her test out lights for a photo shoot and it was a done deal: I put everything I love to wear into a duffle bag and headed over the bridge.

The rest is history.



It was just what we needed, and sunny outside too! I'm glad for that cause it's grey today and I'm workin, eyeballing the occasional gangster that hits up Tres Agaves.

To my chagrin there are not many.

I'm torn between wanting things that are really hard and really soft, lately.



These guys are definitely soft.

Happy Sunday.

And That Ain't What You Want to Hear But That's What I'll Do

Oh honey. I have so much I could tell you about this weekend. It was fucking action packed. But I am frail right now, bunny is hung over from cutty bang cocktails and a shot of vodka at the end of the night.

This picture, however, pretty much sums up everything from Friday at 9:15 PM until now. Really well:




See how that kitten-bunny is like. Messy and adorable and super, all at once? Like that.

And last night was definitely the height of it. The party I was working at was more fun than I've had in a long time. I had a partner in crime on the door, this sweet little blond girl, who was cute as a button and very sparkling.

But context changes everything. Turns out I am not the center of the universe, just one of a bunch of pretty things out there.




And when me and the other door girl were over it? Like. 3:30 AM and time to stop charging people? We were so ready to go, having personally greeted every single person in the room. There's something about that. You reach your limit and bounce, before things get more involved.

We went to Jack in the Box and caused a sensation.





I also worked on Friday night but all of the fantastic adventures I had there were replaced by the party after that so I couldn't coherently tell you anything else about this weekend. I think I'm still a little tipsy? At least I have pictures.

I'm supposed to buy a hamster today. I'm also supposed to do a full eight hours of work for my day job so that I don't show up tomorrow with a million things broken.

I'm rooting for the Cardinals, in this Super Bowl.

I can't get the song Seven Nation Army out of my head this morning, cause it was playing when I parked my car last night.

I think I'm gonna go back to sleep. Good morning.

The Most Beautiful Boogieman

I want that picture behind him. Pretty much in that exact size. For my livingroom, opposite the sunset.





Last night this Japanese girl laughed in my face when I told her the cover. Five dollars. She said that was like, sixty cents in her money. I love international guests a lot. I've been tipped in pretty colored bills by Bolivians, square Aruban fifty cent coins and once with a 5 yen coin that I guess I should have held on to, huh?

Anyways. The little Japanese girl was adorable and talked my ear off for like 5 minutes straight before I even got to stamp her hand.




Dude. Cool. I never got to be a girl scout and now I'm kinda bummed about it. Right this moment I would be sewing my old patches on to a denim miniskirt supersuit that zipped all the way up the front and featured a stealth hood lined in satin.

But I guess it's never too late to earn merit badges. Right?





I took down last night's post because I think it was insensitive. And really, I want to keep this space pure. I'm done bleeding all over pages for strangers for free, at least. I should be saving the grittiest things for an awesome novel, I suppose.

I need more time, I guess.







Or maybe just enough distance to take the whole thing in. At once.






Another reason to love the Grand Lake Theater.





The sky was major today.

Also, I accidentally imported my whole ipod into my car stereo and then was like, fuckit and pushed play. It started playing every song in my library in alphabetical order. I drove for about 3 hours today, and I got from 2Wicky by Hooverphonic through half of Darling Nikki by Prince.





There is a party in my neighborhood right now and all of these tipsy youngsters are walking around and yelling a lot. Some of the girls' outfits are not to be missed, and everybody's looking really shiny down there.

I'm tempted to go revel with them, I used to do that all of the time when I lived off Haight. I figured any relatively rowdy party happening on my block was fair game.

But I did it very big last night and so tonight I feel.

Small.




So there won't be any going out for me, I'm barely awake enough to type this.

I miss you. Keep the faith.





A Gorilla in the Mist.

Gnight.