it's like pancakes, yo.

Internet Time-Machine

2009-12-04T12:44:00.001-08:00

Let's revisit an old list that I had posted almost three years ago:

My new year's resolutions remain constant since they always remain unaccomplished:

1. Exercise daily.
2. Become Vegetarian (or Seafarian? I still like to eat the ocean animals.)
3. Attend another college other than Mt. Sac.
4. Move out.
5. Spend less.
6. Sew for $$$.
7. Walk my own dog more often.
8. Avoid chocolate for at least five days. C'MON!
9. Maintain a consistent sketchbook.
10. Call people back more. I MEAN C'MON!

So, in light of three years passing, what has changed exactly?

1. Exercise daily.
This is an on-again off-again thing. Earlier this summer I was running an average of 3 miles a day and doing 45 mile bike rides. Now? I eat bowls of curry and pass out on my floor.
2. Become Vegetarian (or Seafarian? I still like to eat the ocean animals.)
NOPE. My love for meat is as romantic as a Jennifer Aniston movie.
3. Attend another college other than Mt. Sac.
I graduate from CalArts in less than TWO WEEKS! Now onto a gaping debt and forever graphic designing!
4. Move out.
Currently live in Valencia, CA. Soul is still somewhat intact despite looming corporate conglomerates on every peach-colored stuccoed corner.
5. Spend less.
This is only partially achieved considering that I never have any money to spend.
6. Sew for $$$.
Working on this. I'd probably make more if I just exchanged $$$ for 8==D
7. Walk my own dog more often.
Hester died two years ago so here's to bringing back painful memories!
8. Avoid chocolate for at least five days. C'MON!
Dumb list item.
9. Maintain a consistent sketchbook.
NOPE. But I'm always sitting in front of a computer meddling with things in either InDesign or Illustrator. If that counts for any "creativity-massage."
10. Call people back more. I MEAN C'MON!
LOLZ. 'Riding a unicorn everyday' would've been a more achievable goal.

Stalker Credentials

2009-04-29T14:41:00.000-07:00

Randomly thought up while getting ice cream with a gay friend who's been scouting every piece of ass that walks on campus.

"Maybe I deserve to get a restraining order, eh?"
"A teacher has to have their credentials to teach, right? So what's a stalker without a few restraining orders?"

Mind you, I am also certified by way of learning disorder to give out terrible advice. My prescriptions come in either hugs, candy, or hours of coloring with crayons.

Hateraid Tidal Wave

2009-04-28T21:51:00.000-07:00

Ok, so despite the fact that I'm up to my eyeballs in work to finish at school, I've been OBSESSED with The Hipster Grifter. In short, she's basically a run-of-the-mill poster child for Urban Outfitters that managed to swindle, lie, and cheat a couple people out of some dollars ($60K) and some credibility (Vice magazine hired her on the spot based on her manufactured charm and one "bloviated"* chest tattoo. Not surprising.)

The thing that gets me the most about this chick is the fact that she screwed a bunch of people over based on some pretty inane attributes: Working as a pr tool for a masturbatory art-rag, owning terribly self-conscious tattoos (almost equivalent to people who wear 'effing fedoras at night), and bootlegging more comedic material from Family Guy than a Chinese lady hawking burned DVDs from a suitcase!

However, with the way things proliferate and spawn via the internet she'll somehow get some kind of monetary deal and basically become the hipster equivalent of Tila Tequila-- replete with all the vapid social constructs for the "Parody-of-every-other-generation-Generation" to stuff bills down her proverbial, hand-job-giving mouth*-- ultimately prolonging her obvious sociopathological problem.

* the word "bloviate" was used by this chick in an apologetic email she sent to people who actually felt bad for her. But its all tea and sympathy till she makes you cash checks that bounce, lie about having cancer, and you know, be wanted by the SLC Police on multiple theft and fraud charges because she was too perfect a mix of insane/lazy to just be responsible, honest, and get a job.

* her catchphrase has been "I want to give you a hand-job with my mouth <3 Korean Abdul-Jamar."

Conversely, I want to punch her face with my foot. ESPECIALLY since her craziness has been eating up all my internet time. Can someone just turn her in to the cops already?!

I am Dr. Phil of Drunk Dials

2009-03-17T22:35:00.000-07:00

Steven only calls me when he is drunk (I don't blame him, as my humor is only fully appreciated by brains completely soaked in booze.) The funny thing about him calling me the other night, was that I still to this day have not yet saved his new number on my cell phone-- so every time he calls I mistake him for A) some random O.G. that I've been exchanging texts with, who has not yet fully realized that I'm not his homie by the name of 'G-Money' or B) Ingraham, who has decided to cut off all communication with me because of my extreme flakiness (this is true) and that he wanted to remove the only hilarious female ethnic to ever grace his white-male existence (also, TRUE!)

Anyway, I totally thought Steven was the aforementioned Ingraham and got all hopeful and happy that he wanted to talk to me again-- which was obvs. not the case. However, despite the slight confusion and initial drunken chuckles, we were able to have a nice long conversation about how fucked up his obsession with ex-girlfriends is (i.e. how calling them to leave long, whiny, guilt-filled voice mails-- we concluded-- is not the best way to get her back) and ultimately, how much we've both changed since we were 21 (and for the most part, not with each other any more.)

Maybe I was so kind with him because he's on the other side of the country and no longer in my life (maybe?) or because so much has happened to me in terms of forgiveness, patience, and death in the past 4 years-- that I can't afford to keep chips on my shoulder any more. For the most part, it felt good to console and empathize the very same person that I had some of the worst fights in my life with. It felt good to return back to the friends we used to be; staying up late with a bottle of Gold Label, talking obsessively about Star Wars, legos, and failed relationships-- but being fully aware that we are never, ever meant to be together again.

I told him that every moment we're alone is for the betterment of ourselves-- because no matter who you've been with or for however long, the road after you die is one made all by yourself.

He told me that was the most "Dr. Phil" advice he'd ever heard.

"I'm glad I called you."

Project Proposal

2009-03-13T01:41:00.000-07:00

Just an excerpt of a recent proposal I sent out to a teacher at school:

A large amount of my art making practice here at CalArts deals with
packaging design and the psychology of how we as zombie-consumers approach
"packaged" materials; specifically as to how a container can effect the
buyers behavior/attention, regardless of the quality/importance of the
containers contents.

In response to the overwhelming amount of damage inflicted onto the
equipment of the Print Lab-- despite Orientation attendance/acknowledged
fear of Dansby's Wrath-- I want to create a comprehensive "packet" of lab
info that students can keep either on hand (pocket-sized brochure) or
receive upon attending orientation (potato-chip-sized package with
booklet). The packet will re-iterate info already present on the print lab
website, but I will attempt to re-contextualize the information in a
booklet that is easy to read/access. In regards to packaging, I want to
create a simple, but curiously stylized packet that will entice students
to further understand the responsibilities & policies of the print lab--
if not grind it into their skulls that precious dollars/kitties are wasted
away each day whenever something breaks and/or is irresponsibly handled.

A futile task? Most likely-- but for the record I once completely sold-out packets of my own hair and nail clippings for $1-- all as a result of how the items were
packaged. Doesn't say much about the students of CalArts, but it makes as
a funny story.

I don't want to be busy on my CalArts dime anymore-- despite my classes already lacking in terms of actual "schoolwork." I'm currently welding my own bike frame (see also: spending way more money as opposed to just buying a finished one) avoiding work on my interdisp. grant project, and managing a sewing club at school.

But all i really REALLY want to do: watch Battlestar Gallactica. And. Eat. Chocolate.

It's Been Awhile...

2009-02-13T19:47:00.001-08:00

Drunk-chan
Originally uploaded by koo koo ka choo

School and work have been consistently busting my ass along with screwing up my entire system of prioritizing. I have a mid-residency review, two performances, and three projects I'm helping people develop all due in less than a month. Time to go on-line and look up how to make cute paper kittens for about 6-7 hours."

I finally got to posting a hilarious video of Ken-chan SLIGHTLY drunk off his rocker. He made it through the night just fine (save a bucket or two of vomit-- on me) and we've now moved on to being just fine, responsible adults.

Currently working on a website of my work and sending out an aging package due for a loved cousin up in Seattle ;) Got a chunky grant to use my vending machine as a lo-fi database for distributing/sharing student work. More on that soon. In the meantime, check out Drunky-chan!

Portland, OR a.k.a. the Israel for vegans!

2008-07-06T04:40:00.000-07:00

My two-week (totally out of budget) trip up to Portland was nice-- the weather was as amicable and sweet as all the people encountered, with lots of local food co-ops and environmental consciousness, vegetarianism, lush landscape, and bike lanes abound! However, I have to admit that after one and a half weeks of eating nothing but tempeh, quinoa, and tofu'd out EVERYTHING-- I kind of found myself staring idly at small animals with mouth slightly agape and watering. For the first time in my life I was overwhelmed with vegetarian options-- which at first was refreshing and different, but in the end proved to be a little cumbersome for my pallet. I didn't want a bloody slab of steak and I didn't want to pay $10 for a sandwich with fish. There seemed to be no happy medium aside from prowling Portland's parks with a squirrel-sized spear. In the end, David and I managed on homemade pizzas with ingredients purchased from trader joes (tofurky italian sausage: the 'methadone' for your meat withdrawals) and were guided by his sister's roommates to cheap, charming, and meat-friendly cafes.

Our train back to L.A. Union Station took about 30hrs. Yes. THIRTY. Had it not been for chili-mango snacks, mad libs, and the voluminous Chabon* novel-- I would've most likely wound up ripping both my eyeballs and hair with great aplomb. We had to purchase bike boxes to haul our bicycles back to LA, but for $40-- a pair of huge un-padded cardboard coffins was not a deal in the least. We had tried beforehand to obtain used bike boxes from a Portland bike shop, but when it came down to placing our bikes inside them it was either dismember the bikes, or ship ourselves in the box and put our cycles in our train seats.

When I finally arrived home my mom and I went out to Garden Cafe in Rowland Heights. It felt good to eat cheap/tasty seafood chow mien at 1 am while simultaneously be bombarded in a room full of asians. While in Portland, I came across a guy who spoke negatively about L.A. (he even went so far as to ask me which Chinatown I've been to-- totally unbeknownst to my reference of the shangri-la trifecta: Monterey Park, Alhambra, and Arcadia.) While I can totally see from an environmental perspective how easy it is to hate L.A. (our cars, our smog, our pollution) Portland could never hold a candle to the rich, layered, often tangled ethnic mix I've always grown up to know L.A. for. And besides, there are eco-villages sprouting up in L.A. with tons of bike kitchens to boot-- so that means something must be evolving in the ways of achieving the same environmental smugness that for now, only Oregon can claim.

The gas prices, hot weather, and real estate however, is another story entirely.

* While reading Chabon's "The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay" I tired to imagine along what each of the protagonists would look like visually. After several chapters of reading into what kind of character Sammy Clay would be-- I immediately thought of Tobey Maguire as reference. Fast-forward 18 hours later and I discover this:

In January 2005, Chabon posted on his web site that, "about a month ago, there was a very brief buzzing, as of a fruit fly, around the film version of The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay. It was a casting-buzz. It went like this: Tobey Maguire as Sam Clay. Jamie Bell as Joe Kavalier.

WEIRD! Though for Joe Kavalier I was thinking more of Adrien Brody. Then again, who ISN'T thinking of Adrien?

Reason #435 Why Trends Are Retarded

2008-05-29T15:55:00.000-07:00

Where Some See Fashion, Others See Politics

Some notable quotes:

“That’s so cheap of Urban, a PR gambit,” she said. “But I think it’s great that this controversy will get kids to start learning about it.”

“I’m not too up to speed in what’s going on in the Middle East,” said Liz Chernett, a strategic consultant in branding and a youth trends expert who bought a kaffiyeh from a vendor on St. Mark’s Place three months ago. “It’s an aesthetic thing.”

One of the main reasons I don't keep up with fashion anymore is because it has been gutted of all it's meaning and significance; because of the proliferation of the internet, trends die as fast as they are created with nothing to show for other than a bloated clearance rack and random encounters with girls all wearing the same thing at different times. What ISN'T cheap of Urban-- from the overseas origins of their products to the 'individualist' image they sell in droves. How ironic it is to critique such a company of spitting out a PR gambit when the very women that wear these scarves make the excuse, 'Don't blame me for not keeping up with world issues! I was just following along because It's an aesthetic thing.'

I would throw the keffiyeh in with leggings, babydoll dresses, and anything/everything stilleto-heeled & metallic-- not necessarily because these things are now worn by everyone and their grandmother, but because there is far more to clothing than what is sold in (both cheap and expensive) stores. Nothing is esoteric anymore in fashion because the internet duplicates trends faster than Michael Keaton in Multiplicity-- with a mentally retarded off-product always being thrown in the mix.

/END RANDOM FASHION RANT

Addendum: "... I'm not really interested in being on the best-dressed list. I like to be on the worst dressed too. It's a fantastic place to be, and I'm in good company if I'm there. I think they know the adventure of dressing, and I'm not concerned about what's going to make me be considered fashionable. The people I admire, such as John Galliano and Jean Paul Gaultier, are eccentrics. And they aren't trying to be like everyone else. We have a lot in common that way, and we know that what makes us different is what makes us good.

I see women on the street and one of the things that inspires me is when I see someone who has blue eye shadow on and you can tell she's been wearing her makeup the same way since 1965. I'm inspired by women who have held on to their look they know themselves, and they wear what they want to wear despite what fashion dictates.

- Dita Von Teese

If Lazy smelled bad, then I stink

2008-05-29T09:31:00.000-07:00

Even conjuring enough motivation to write in this thing proves to be the most tedious of tasks! Since coming back from camping in Utah, in addition to my mom going to Florida, I've had the house all to myself with ZERO interest in getting things done. It's such a refreshing change from the pace of school-- I had almost forgotten what it was like to wake up everyday with NO SENSE OF PURPOSE.

The best feeling ever! Laying in bed, staring at the ceiling with completely blank and meaningless thoughts (i.e. should I add pear as a pizza toping today?, are there more youtube videos of Bigfoot that I haven't seen yet?)

I should get back to my studio this week to work on stuff for APE in November-- not to mention my gallery show in October, but how is it possible when there are tons of hours left in this month to IDLE?!

Things To Think About Doing Today:

1. Clean out garage for yard sale.
2. Put my wet laundry in the dryer.
3. Finish comic for Bianca
4. Send Esmerelda her dress.
5. Upload photos from trip.
6. Put up Playmobil stuff on Ebay.
7. Get Smog Check and wheel alignment done.

Things Actually Done:

1. Eat another home-made pizza concoction.
2. Play more Typing of the Dead.
3. Stay up till 3 a.m. watching youtube on Bigfoot and reading about lithification of rocks.

conversations

2008-05-19T05:20:00.000-07:00

A: I want to go to Ikea today to buy a desk.
B: I want to go pet miniature ponies.
A: You just made that up.

B: Miniature ponies ARE REAL.

Journey to Ass-Hat Land

2008-04-22T21:25:00.000-07:00

I am going to undertake what initially feels like the most ass-reaming art project of my entire life: Creating, formatting, and integrating my own personal IRS-type filing system. When an idea for a piece is formed, either by sketchbook, conversation, or random doodle, I will require myself to fill out customized forms-- carefully documenting the idea in progress from 'bubble-in medium(s) used' to a color-coded source material appendix (the list of my OCD goes on.)

I had great/awkward conversation with my mentor earlier about the project at hand-- it was awkward because I'm supposed to be schilling out paintings and shit, only to begin our morning meeting by handing him a piece of paper that looked like a dated accounting form. "It'll be interesting to see what you'll actually make from this," (I can't tell if he's being facetious or genuinely intrigued at this point) "it makes me wonder if you'll create the pieces from the form, or be driven to confine them to the very nature of the form."

TRU DAT, sir! Only superbly refined idiots such as myself will be able to determine the cause of this proposed effect.

I know I've had five months to make stuff-- to paint things/themes/whatever-- but the motivation to actually create any of it never really crystallized until now, when I am filled with enough sado-masochism to subjugate myself to a limitless and absolutely pointless filing system that has no other application or meaning to the outside world.

Excessive amounts of energy wasted-- or STORY OF OUR LIVES?!

Distraction Subtraction

2008-04-17T18:35:00.000-07:00

Bought a 3 lb. bag of Haribo gummy bears and spent most of Wednesday afternoon sitting on the soccer field with Miggy-- eating said bears, looking for ladybugs, and writing our conversation on a paper towel. FINALLY! An azn sista to talk with about food, random snacks, and small animals dressed in people clothes (think about why you are friends with me-- these are true friend-requirements, yes?)

On Thursday's gallery, Dawn and Jeff came up to visit/survey the insanity of our campus. There was a decent (for ska) band from Riverside that showed up to play, replete with it's circa '97 gwen stefani doppelgangers, skanking in circles. Creepy Skin-Head Man with Raver Pants was out and about too-- and for some odd reason, was always trying to get into our circle of conversation to talk about Atari Teenage Riot and Doom Generation.

On Friday night, I went on the Inland Empire Critical Mass ride-- had some Dippin' Dots and later spent the evening evading a small police cart. We later got pulled over by a real police car and had to line up along the sidewalk all OG-style (no cuffs though.) After getting cited for running a stop sign I'm apparently never allowed in Victoria Gardens ever again (which is fine considering gas prices as of late, and the fact that every shop in that shitty outdoor mall has an online store.)

I am dying in class right now; totally getting the palsy-shakes from lack of no food. I want to head-butt a chocolate-peanut butter pie and then have a chile-relleno burrito. I have so much work to do before this semester ends (3 weeks left) but all I want to do is make like a cat and sleep for hours under someones couch.

three years (of crazy)

2008-04-08T14:16:00.000-07:00

I'm too old for this: drinking semi-heavily (semi, because I can't seem to recall how heavy) for the past four days straight. Befriending MFA Writers who all suffer from some sort of F. Scoot Fitzgerald drinking habit-- proves not be in my best interest in terms of getting work done. Sometimes I feel as if their thesis readings are just intellectually-veiled excuses to get trashed and listen to Dr. Dre's Tha Chronic ("After tons of drunk dancing: Dialog on cultural representation in Rap music.") Everything about this system is a brilliant, accessible, and terrible burrito-o-insanity. For this, nothing on my to-do list gets to-do'ed.

Errands, so many errands for today. The more cumbersome the errand I have to wrestle (i.e. piles of laundry, taxes, smog check) the more enticing it is to type random journal entries and read about all the ways I can mix Pisco! into my Pandapple container. Am I experiencing late onset college frosh syndrome? I stare at my wine-stained sweater cuffs and sit in disbelief; I thought I got all of this shit out of my system long ago (take two angry filipinos, three parts alcohol, one part drug abuse, shake roughly with a twist of live-art = 2003 - 2004. oh yeah, and lots of unreasonable sobbing.)

Diana, Shin, and I are shooting for APE this Winter. Seeing that each of us are frequenting our own little dark places this year; Diana knifing her brains out in Las Vegas, Shin wanting to knife that recluse of an investment banker, and myself-- stabbing my liver. What's not to fuel our creativity in the form of cute, pastel-colored, crap-nobody-needs-but-feels-compelled-to-buy-anyway? YES! So let's make a 'zine together, yeah? This boat is a-sinkin' so it's time to start paddling!

don't hate me, hate my booty

2008-03-11T22:23:00.001-07:00

School is time-consuming (surprise) but also is the Whole Foods Salad Bar section (legume-on-legume ORGY.)

Recent obsessions:

- Leslie Hall
- Wood paper
- Serging cat outfits in my studio, when I should totally be painting something.

I PUT THE ROD IN PRODUCTIVE.

pot, a large cookie, and assholery

2008-02-14T12:07:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I met a guy named Nick who also ended up being another 25 year old floating around CalArts with a slightly perturbed look on his face (i am not alone!) While hanging out in my studio he runs into another friend (named Monkey?) and we all end up smoking a LOT of pot.

Within minutes, like ants to picnic, the smell of weed attracts a handful of other students in the adjacent studios and before I fully realize it, there are about ten of us standing around discussing the subtleties of weed appellation and taste. Being around so many strangers, completely toasted off my ass, I felt really uncomfortable and kept wishing I was at home in bed, with a cat sleeping on my face. After somehow making my way to the cafeteria with Monkey, I end up ordering a quesadilla and fries (demolishing them in minutes) and wander my way over to a table of more familiar friends who invite me to go to the sauna with them (CalArts has a sauna?) I digress but still walk with them in the freezing cold to get some ice cream.

Everything else that follows is really just a series of pot-infused paranoia. David, bless him, is the worst liar known to mankind-- so his attempt to buy me a large valentine's day cookie as a surprise was totally misinterpreted by my stoned-ass as some sort of "OMG IS HE CHEATING ON ME?!" tirade. In a panic I call Danny, who calmly reminds me that I'm both high, retarded, and that Valentines Day is tomorrow,

"First of all, you're the Church of Becky to David."
"But what if he finds me falliable?! What if he gets all Martin Luther on me and posts a list of complaints on my church doors?!"
"If you think he's cheating and you try to call him out on it tonight, you're going to look like an pot-smoking asshole."

(David bought me a large heart-shaped cookie after deciding not to buy me a wireless apple keyboard & mouse, "It wouldn't have been very useful since you just use a laptop. I figured I'd just get the cookie because it reminded me of that story you told me of when you finished off a huge cookie your brother's girlfriend made for him on Valentines Day.")

MY ASSHOLE QUOTIENT OF THE YEAR = COMPLETE.

requisite avoiding-work quiz

2008-01-30T01:48:00.000-08:00

I am considered 64% Geek according to the standards established by this quiz. Though, looking back at the first few questions that I answered-- do I really need to give myself a percentile if I can immediately answer Star Wars (It was Greedo who shot first, THEN Han) and Star Trek: Next Generation (Ferengi have excellent hearing, hence their huge ears) trivia? How did I ever get guys to go out with me?!

I put partial blame on my older brother; we hung out A LOT when we were kids. Also, the first car accident I was ever involved in was with him and his girlfriend (who could speak KLINGON!) while we were all on our way to a Star Trek convention in Pasadena.

Looking back again, how did my brother ever get married?

$400 rent to be someone's "life coach"...

2008-01-10T00:32:00.000-08:00

David and I are both still on waiting lists for housing; the ladies at the CalArts housing office remain both unusually optimistic and extremely vague, "We are 300% almost certain that you'll maybe get housing next week!"

After the school (dis)orientation, we looked around at apartments outside of campus and managed to only find a guy who was offering a literal closet for $700 a month (upon meeting him for the first time he immediately quipped without hesitation, "Yeah so like, I smoke pot. I have a medical card for it though, so yeah.") Not only was he barefoot when he met us in the parking lot, but his hands also had a yellow tint to them.

SHADY.

One of the art program directors seemed to sympathize with our last-minute housing dilemma and referred us to a korean guy who was renting out a master bedroom for only $570 including utilities. We're going to look at the place once I sign up for classes today (a task which in itself is going to be the shittiest of shit-storms-- judging by the slightly confused look on the admission director's face upon explaining the class sign-up "process.") All the practicums I wanted to take are full and to make things even more retarded, since I'm coming in as a second semester 3rd year, I'm already somehow expected to know what the hell to do (...lay face down on the floor?!)

I want to be excited about school, but I can't seem to gather any enthusiasm without knowing for sure that I'll have a place to live in. The frenzied search for rooms and the limited window I have to move shit around grows smaller and smaller each passing day. These next few days leading up to Monday are already covered in insanity: class sign-up, bianca's birthday, finding and moving into SOMEWHERE, work at Mt.SAC, last Reve company meeting, driving mom to visit Evvy, semi-going away part/sister-in-law's 30th bday, eating shit, dying.

Also, I need to find a gym! I am being torn away from the comfort and solace of my treadmill at home-- forced to succumb to my extreme phobia of exercising around other people. THIS IS NOT A GOOD THING. I WILL END UP KILLING SOMEONE.

I can't believe it's not butter

2008-01-07T20:41:00.000-08:00

This was yet another overwhelmingly strange new year. The list goes as follows:

1. My grandma, the surrogate mother of my youth and the only person I used to watch Bold & The Beautiful with-- passed away on December 30, 2007.

2. That same morning, my "friend-o-drama" Jo gave birth to a little baby girl. I am now an auntie.

3. Spent the count-down on new years driving down the 10 freeway with my aunt from New York; I had just picked her up from Ontario Airport at 11:45pm.

4. Had a slew of funeral arrangement meetings, late night photo collage scanning, and a 11hr Kinko's please-photo-copy-this-shit-correctly marathon.

5. Buried grandma on the 5th. Didn't cry as much as I thought I would-- up until later on that night when I watched Roman Holiday by myself whilst clutching the pillow grandma made me when I was five years old (it's a really old and dirty pillow.)

I begin registration and find out my dorm assignment this Thursday. I am still completely oblivious to the fact that I am moving and that I actually need to pack my things. I am hesitant to make a list because I don't feel like driving around, nor do I feel like packing to begin with. I figure I'll just wear everything I want to bring, topped off with a poncho, and a sack of the shoes I'll eventually wear.

Ate at gr/eats today with Mike, Diana, and David (I had the paella and half of a seared ahi tuna sandwich-- NOT BAD!) We later visited GR2 next door, only to find out that it's INFESTED WITH TERMITES. No joke. I was browsing a display case by the store front window and found a swarm of the bugs chowing down on the wooden moulding. For a moment I thought it was part of an art exhibit-- but, judging by the immediate horror of the shop-girl's face upon asking her about it, I guess not.

Also, still not packing.

I love you public bathroom

2007-12-23T05:01:00.000-08:00

Strange days ahead:
1. Grandma is sick with pneumonia and acute renal failure.
2. Cousins visiting from Philadelphia and Philippines, who for some reason are always asking me to drive them places (and NOT pay for gas?! I do not drive a magic flying carpet.)
3. Have not purchased a single holiday gift.
4. No work for the next week.
5. Am mostly confused (see also: have no idea how to enjoy the upcoming holiday due to sudden influx of possible family loss, with a side of large family gathering.)

If only 2007 could be printed in the form of a gift receipt, I'd make sure that when I show up to the pearly gates, I would ask for a refund-- or at least an exchange? "I would like the things most treasured in my life to spontaneously combust as opposed to having them slowly deteriorate before my eyes please."

(And then I would realize that I am being helped at the customer service desk at WalMart, whose Catholic equivalence translates as Purgatory.)

Most random post ever.

someone I used to date...

2007-12-15T03:00:00.000-08:00

"So today I got away with the most flagrantly rude behavior I've ever committed while in a customer service job.

The customer was being a dick. Glowering, tapping his fingers, feeling he had the right to call me by name just because it was displayed on my little name tag, etc. I came rapidly to hate this man with a burning intensity that completely ignored how brief a time I had been subjected to him. This was the sort of guy who, in high school, I would have either stabbed with a pencil (yes, I really did do that once- in the hand, so no chance of fatal injury) or attacked with a whirlwind of wild but hard punches, or arranged to be expelled. Those who know me well know how occasionally, someone will piss me off just by existing, and sometimes, someone who is genuinely irritating will enrage me beyond all reason (see: half of my Senior class). This was somewhere between those two. I may be mellowing with age. Which would be good, in the real world, you go to jail for shanking a guy with a pencil.

So instead of going to jail, I looked at him as I took his order, and said, "Ok, that'll be $4.08 And you have to quit being a dick."

Him: "Ex-CUSE me?"

Me: "Before I give you food, you have to quit being a dick. Otherwise you can take your $4.08 and shove it."

Quite a bit of back and forth ensued, but I was in my deepest sort of fast-food/customer service despair, which usually manifests as being ZEN right in everyone's FACE. In short, I am so imperturbable that it really pisses people off. So my end of the "back and forth" was the sort of unflinching honesty you only get from someone who feels that he has nothing to lose.

"You walk in here expecting us to treat you like king shit because you have five bucks. (he growls some obscenities) Being on that side of the counter doesn't grant you a superior social position or functioning brain. (he continues to growl something, but I ignore him) You can either treat me like an equal who just happens to be responsible for the preparation of your food this evening, or you can go home."

He went home.

Chris, one of my co-workers, gaped for a minute, then applauded. Chris isn't a bad guy. His name tag reads "Christ." The manager who made it didn't realize what he was doing, and Chris hasn't mentioned it. Like I said, Chris will not be first against the wall when the revolution comes.

My manager, Enrique, doesn't speak much English, and he has a hard time following it when it's fast or emotional, so he had no idea what the guy was talking about, and all he knew was that the guy was barking and swaggering, while I was being totally calm and reasonable-sounding. So he actually came over and comforted me after the whole thing, saying, "Ees okay, man, some peoples are just the... ahss-hohlz."

.........

Years have passed between us, but little does he know that I am QUITE the creepy internet stalker. He was an amazing writer, though I never understood why he always chose shitty retail and food-service jobs. I always thought he'd be a great history teacher and/or uni-bomber-- OR BOTH. He hasn't posted anything in the last few months and I am far too reticent to even email him.

The internet makes me weird.

let's celebrate festivus instead

2007-12-12T10:59:00.000-08:00

Vik Prjónsdóttir makes the best knitted gifts-- though, since they're based in Iceland this comes as no surprise.

I began making one of these last night but then realized that it's never really cold enough here in Southern California to use (maybe for people who go snowboarding?) It seemed like a fun gift at the time, but why should I put a few days worth of needlework effort just to have it occupy the bottom of someone's sock drawer?

I love to make presents, but whenever I'm in the middle of a process, I always hear Mr. Birchum's Gift Guide (KROQ Christmas circa 1995) reverberating in the back of my mind:

"Just because you or your retarded kid made it, it's just going to make it THAT much harder to re-sell. Buy me the finish product, please."

I wish I could just skip the Holiday season altogether. I also wish waitMate (featuring a perpetually creepy/handsome Jeff Goldblum) really did exist; I would take them by the pound.

I do not work, I schlep

2007-12-11T10:08:00.000-08:00

It still hasn't hit me yet that I'm finally moving forward academically (mostly due to my HUGE reluctance to fork up the $500 tuition deposit by this Saturday.) To my friends who already have their own houses and masters degrees-- the fact that I am actually on my way towards a bachelor's and not some other random job wiping old asses*, is a revelation to them.

Yesterday while helping Janine with her classroom's aquarium, I casually mentioned to her about my acceptance into CalArts next year. Her response? Cupping her hands over her mouth while almost holding back tears, I KID YOU NOT. "I'm so proud of you!" she beamed as she gave me a hug, "You're going be so great there!" Seriously, not even my own MOTHER responded to my acceptance this way (also mostly due to my even LARGER reluctance to tell her about anything in my life.)

A little confused at this point, I wondered if Janine's enthusiasm was 100% genuine, or just a conditioned response from a 3rd grade school teacher-- whose daily job is to dole out praise and happy face stickers as if they're going out of style. In the end of course, it felt nice to know that there are still people in your life who act in their own right as your personal Richard Simmons (who I quote, “[Life] is the most magical place in the world!”)

Today is yet another day of le SCHLEP; wandering around, staring at things, being a senior in general. Work at both Mt. SAC and Reve is slow, not to mention the hole in my side that never looks likes its healing.

Also, if you want to blow off $200 bucks in about twenty minutes-- please visit the Coat & Jacket section of yesstyle.com. Unlike the Japanese, who tease the rest of the fashion world with their inaccessible clothing websites-- Koreans give it to you, and OMG DO THEY GIVE IT TO YOU GOOD.

life's not sweet without the bitter

2007-11-28T22:04:00.001-08:00

Things I received for my 25th birthday this year:

1. a trip to the ER.
2. neck and back pains for a week.
3. an avulsion on my left side.
4. watching my dog fall asleep and never wake up.
5. an iPod Touch?

My dog was REALLY OLD, yet it took about three hours and one box of tissue to convince me otherwise that putting her through blood-tests and surgery would not be in her best interest. Clinging onto whatever was left of her, the whole situation reminded me of dad and how mom was in complete denial once his EEG came back negative.

After losing my first dog, I thought I had grown some thicker skin towards these sorts of things-- but nothing gets tougher. Old feelings are revisited, you end up dusting them off and burrowing your face in them again. Dad, Ginger, Grandpa, Hester. A pattern of fathers and female dogs.

In addition to the iPod (something that was completely off-kilter from the aforementioned conga-line of SAD) I got a Dahon full-size folding bike! My wound quivers in ~~pain~~ delight! So the next time I fly off a bicycle going at 25mph, I'll at least have the consolation of knowing that my ride can be conveniently folded-up and placed alongside me in the ambulance. YAY!

signed, sealed, kinda delivered?

2007-10-29T22:55:00.000-07:00

I always have this sudden influx of anxiety whenever I have to sort out the things I'll put into an application portfolio. Schools always ask for your best work to display-- when all you really want to do is bring in a trash bag of all your shit and just have the admissions council pick out the ones they like. Because seriously-- for the $75 application fee, they might as well give you a piggy-back ride to the admission office.

I spent most of my day today scanning, photographing, and spending loads of cash on slides ($50 total for 17 digital to print slides! That was a nice pair of shoes or a boatload of fabric I didn't need, but totally could've purchased!) Still waiting for another letter of recommendation and transcript requests. I'm always waiting around for these things.

While digging around for portfolio info, I came across an unfinished application to RISD circa 2005. Holding the dog-eared paper in my hands, I immediately recalled the feelings of doubt, intimidation, and full blown insecurity I felt while trying to somewhat intelligently answer it's harrowing questions.

'Please outline your future goals and expectations within the framework of your chosen major. What do you expect of yourself within the next four years?'

No more living at home with elderly people.

smug is the new 'fug

2007-10-27T12:17:00.000-07:00

Is it wrong to want to "one-up" someone when they're being annoyingly smug? While waiting outside a restaurant last night, I decide to start up conversation with a seemingly cute asian girl (also waiting, but sitting on her vintage-appropriate hipster bicycle.)

Me: "So did you guys go to the after party kegger?"
Her: "Um, no. I've been swigging from this 40oz in my bag the entire ride, so me and my friend decided to peace-out early."

"Wow, nice! Biking back home from this point then?"

"Yeah. I'm an artist?* So, my friend and I are biking back to my artist studio tonight."

Now, a little thrown off kilter I awkwardly reply, "It would be better if you had an artist... yacht."

[insert weird silence-- thankfully her friend rolled up immediately after so I could stop avoiding eye-contact with her]

POINT OF STORY: I HATE it when people make smuggish-type statements in the form of questions. They always feel like, 'Duh, can't you just tell by looking at me?' answers; all of which should be responded with a punch to the face.

No shit? You're an ARTIST?! WITH A STUDIO TO MATCH?!! Yeah. I'm a still-live-at-home-with-my-mom-artist? So, tonight my friends and I are going back to our still-live-at-home-with-my-mom-artist-studios, also known as HOME.

Maybe I'm just a hater. I don't know.