Big Love

is an extremely intriguing show. Too bad I'm watching the fucking SEASON FINALE right now! I need to know more. I wonder how much of this is accurate...you know, compounds and stuff?

The Good News

Hey, guys.

I know I've been lax with the updating recently, and I apologize. My reasons/excuses are as follows:
- Had to get a day job, was too depressed to write,
- Was looking for apartments and was having shitty luck...too depressed to write,
- Was helping Shem move out of his apartment and pulling an all-nighter to do so.

I hope that clears some things up. In other news...
Kyle and I found an apartment today. Our applications were accepted and we cut them a big, fat check for the deposit. We're going to start moving in on Friday. I took some pictures with my sidekick. God only knows how they'll turn out; this is the first time I've used the camera for purposes other than to send pictures of my hair to various people. Oh, speaking of hair...but I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me talk about the pictures first.

So here is the beginning of the tour. First let me tell you a couple things about the apartment: The building used to be a hotel in the 1920s, was converted into an apartment building after the hotel went under. Features of the apartment: hardwood floors, full kitchen, tile flooring in kitchen and bathroom, lots of light/windows.

This photo is of the top right corner of our kitchen. Black and white tile abounds, especially on the floor, where the black tiles within the white background forms something that looks like an E, and then something unintelligible. Kyle called it "very Dadaesque." There are only 3 outlets in the room, which confuses me; how exactly am I going to plug in my microwave? HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO EAT!?



I took this picture by standing in the same spot and swiveling to the left by 40 degrees. Those windows look into what is generously called the "breakfast area", where Kyle and I plan to put a little table with a couple chairs. So we can eat breakfast (a laughable concept; that we would get out of bed in time to do so).



I took this picture by backing straight out of the door to the kitchen, into the "hallway" area. To the left you can see a sliver of the bathroom, and to the right, a sliver of the vanity. That's an area with some drawers and a mirror, for people that are vain. Like me.


Backing up about 5 feet here, we can see two closets to the left. Only the closet closest to us is open - the doors have been painted over so many times over the years that they no longer close. I talked to the super there, and he said it would be alright if we chipped back all the paint and redid them ourselves.


I turned on the spot about 100 degrees to the left, and this is the bottom left corner of our apartment. That's an exposed brick wall, and the burgundy piece right there is what may have been a loading area for the hotel; our room was the area where the receptionist sat and handed out keys. There's a spot on the wall (not pictured in this series) that was clearly a window into the hallway outside.


Going backwards a little bit, I turned 45 degrees to the right and took this picture of the top left corner of our apartment. It has two sets of doors that I am tempted to call french, but aren't really. These windows look out into the street.


And finally, a picture of the big storage closet. This one most accurately shows the real colours of the floor.


And that's it! Kyle's afraid this computer is going to overheat so I have to cut it short, but I will be back sometime in the near future to expound on what it's like to no longer be homeless, and to catch you up on what I've really been doing for the last couple of months.

Second Life

Well, I was curious! The second I start spending real life USD on this thing though, kill me. I've got other useless stuff to waste my money on.

Sometimes I Think About Drugs

I'm not going to lie. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have a severely glamorous addiction to cocaine. Or what about heroin? I would be so apathetic looking, and I would have those sexy hollowed-out death cheeks like models do.

And then I remember that I kind of know what it would be like: HORRIBLY SCARY. I'd have to go into the ghetto to cop the stuff in the first place, so fuck that idea. Also? Injecting things into myself is not my style. Nor is snorting it or smoking it from a little glass pipe. That stuff is just not part of what I do.

So, drugs are out. I guess there are worse things to be than sober because I'm too bratty to get high. Right?

In other news, Kyle, Shem and I all organized having the day off tomorrow, and we're going to see SUPERBAD! I love Michael Cera. He looks like such a cutie, he reminds me of my own little brother. Especially in Arrested Development, except that my brother is a little more

When I Grow Up

When I grow up, I'm only going to give my kids wooden blocks and a rubber duckie to play with. That's all I had and I turned out fine.

FINE I SAY.

Sitting here, eating a quesadilla

The Clash, Culture club, The Go-Gos, The Police, Blondie...I love Whole Foods Soundtracks, but if they put on that boring Amy Winehouse slag, I'm walking out.

More Celebrities at Whole Foods

Ali Larter.

Damn you, Kyle. Damn you.

Topical

Dear Barry Bonds,

FUCK YOU.

Love,
-Priya

Riding in Cabs with Boys

Shem and Kyle are discussing Shem's girl issues (it's a long distance relationship; Kyle is enthusiastically outlining just how well he knows this territory). Shem says, "I don't know! I don't know what her deal is."

So far, I'm silent. Mostly this is because I am drunk and concentrating on keeping my dress from hiking up above my waist.

Then Shem turns around in the front seat and addresses me. I'm blinking one eye at a time at this point, and he says, "Women are crazy, Priya."

"Well..." I find myself saying, "I would rather be crazy than stupid."

The guys (including the driver) fall silent, and I take their silence to mean that they agree.

ShowBiz

I just saw that they're remaking Footloose.

Yes. Footloose. I can kind of see where they're coming from on this one, since that was a classic that was just begging to be updated for the modern day audience. Who are they going to use for the creepy anti-dancing fanatics? I think they should use Scientologists.

And now I'm watching an I Love Lucy episode. The one where Lucy goes overboard with something.

A: 49 years

Dear Prince,

How old are you, in Earth years?

Love,
-Priya

Before I take a shower

My cousin's wedding is in Seattle this weekend, and it looks like I won't be able to go due to parental strife. This shit always has the worst timing. The only thing that makes me feel better about that (and even then, only a smidge better) is that this means I will be around for Kyle's camp play. They will be presenting Honk! Jr. tomorrow night, and I'm looking forward to about 30 minutes of rollicking cuteness, to be followed by my drowning my sorrows in liquor while all my female relatives attend Didi's bachelorette party. DEPRESSING.

Also: Kyle yelled at me for almost giving out my social security number on the internet. He found out that I did this because I then asked him for HIS social security number. I just wanted to know if I was eligible to buy a condo! What's so wrong with that? You should see the pictures, incidentally; it would be like...like...living in a condo, in a super-cool part of town, with rooftop city-gazing, hardwood flooring, elevators, stainless steel appliances, a pool, and floor to ceiling windows.

Also 2: Last night Erica and I went out to dinner at Sushi Roku (she's leaving town soon and we wanted to have, you know, just a night of us...together...) and now I'm craving raw fish. I had a bite of hers last night, and tuna is fucking awesome. TUNAAAAAAAAA. *gnashing of teeth* I love the texture. And I love the taste. But mostly the texture. MmmmMMM. I was going to say that I wish I had some tuna here in the apartment to snack on, but I really don't wish that at all, and the mere thought of sitting here, eating tuna, on a couch that no longer has any spring to it whatsoever, is turning me off sushi, perhaps forever.

Speaking of this couch...this couch reminds me of an old sofa my parents used to own when we lived in Chicago and I was 5 years old. The upholstery is rough, and it's falling the hell apart. I think that this couch and the couch my parents used to have might be contemporaries. That's how old I think this couch is. It's so old that it is the peer of a couch that was long past its prime fifteen years ago. God only knows where that couch is now - at the bottom of the ocean? Home to a family of rats in some Chicago alley? Part of a Found Objects Art Installation in Japan? Wherever it is, it smells.

Gettin' Paid...

Why David Beckham Sucks: Old Spice -

To Americans, David Beckham is the face of modern soccer. He is Adonis, and he welcomes our worship. But Americans are late-comers to the Becks party; the British have been salaciously following his every move since his debut in the 1990s, and they have much to say about him: apparently he's the face of a game he can't play nearly as well as we thought.
in The New Republic by Aleksandar Hemon, 23 July 2007
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