The Last Day of the Year

So, how was that for you? 2007, I mean. I hope it went well. I hope you got what you wanted, and I hope that only in the best way possible. I hope you were healthy, and that people were kind to you, and that you were kind to them, and I hope that you improved and made steps towards a better life. I hope the same for you this year, but for 2008 I will add that I am hereby removing the pressure on you to resolve to lose 15 lbs or whatever. That shit is stupid.

Last night I asked Kyle what he wanted to do to ring in the new year, and he looked at me blankly. We've been invited to a couple things - a party, and goth night at some club in Hollywood - but none of it sounds that compelling. I feel very shruggy about it. I talked to his sister about it, and she has no opinion either and so is no help to me at all. The most coherent thought I've had is that I'd ideally do something with an 80's theme, you know? 80's in '08? There's a nice palindromic ring to it, at least in my head. I'm mostly just excited about having the next 3 days off. I plan on shopping at the Marc Jacobs store on Melrose that a co-worker told me about and straightening out when I'll be in Houston.

I need to revolutionize my life. I need a hobby. I need to read more, and whine less. I need to watch fewer fashion shows and work harder on creating (or nurturing) my own style. I need to write more editorials and actually start sending them out. I need to donate my money to people who actually need things.

So I guess those are my resolutions.

Happy 2008.

A Question of...Well, Conjugation, I Guess

Dear Ladies and Gentlemen of the Fairly Alarmed Readership,

You are an intelligent bunch of people, right? I'm assuming so; you're here, after all. I have a question and I think you can help me. Here we go...

If a female dominator is a dominatrix, it follows that a female editor would be an editrix (especially if she is cruel, thrillingly so)...but could I call a doctor who seems to get her jollies by stabbing me in the downstairs a Doctrix? What about multiples, are they Doctrices, like Matrices in algebra?

Certain circumstances in my life have foisted this query upon me and I cannot solve it myself. And still, I need to know. Help.

Those who make the best reply in the comments or to my private email will receive a prize, to be determined.

Broad Strokes

I would like to start today's entry with a little Jesus. It was his fake birthday a few days ago. Did you have a nice celebration (if you are into that)? I did. I got lots of presents...lots! And Kyle's sister Alison and her boyfriend are in town...it's been one enormous sleepover party thus far. And I'm getting to see a little of LA that I haven't yet, under the guise of showing them around town.

My friends here are back from visiting their families in Iowa and Oregon, which is yay.

I saw Sweeney Todd the other night. It was surprisingly good.

Looking forward to New Year's, but I don't know what I'm doing yet.

Work is blah, as usual. Could be worse, but it could also be a whole lot better.

Damn the bus system. I'm late to work.

No!

Do I care about the outcome of your child's soccer game (even if you are Lionel Richie)?

Is it funny when you torment me with your terrible jokes at work and when I don't laugh, your response is to turn to your similarly uncouth friend and say "no sense of humor, but at least she's cute"?

Am I even a little sad for you that your dog has behavioral issues and needs to go to one of those doggie spas where they take them on field trips and give them massages daily?

Do I appreciate your efforts to befriend me through lines like "Indian women are the sexiest women in the world, don't let anyone tell you different"?

Am I even remotely impressed when you - accidentally, I'm sure - reach into your pocket for a stick of gum and pull out a roll of bills with a 50 note wrapped around it?

Is your dangling a Mercedes key in front of me when you ask me for something a viable method for motivation?

Do I think you're powerful(ly sexy)?
Am I your friend?
Will I bend the rules just this once, just for you?
DO I GIVE TWO SHITS ABOUT YOUR HEADSHOTS?

Griping

I got a new haircut today. I'm always getting new haircuts and I never take pics before or after, I'm really beginning to annoy myself with this shit. It's like I'm going through many Priyas and you only know the one on my facebook profile.

I think my viewing of Juno was the first time I was really able to articulate to myself how fucking sick I am of the cultural shorthand that the guitar has become. We don't have to establish that this guy was at one point an outcast, but a sensitive outcast with feelings, feelings he was in touch with no less, who was HAWT but nobody knew it yet. Because he played guitar. And if you're a girl that plays guitar, well, you MUST be the coolest! Girls that play guitar are grungy-sexy, they laugh at fart jokes, they let you be yourself because they just wanna make their art, they have crazy rock style that only they can pull off, they're unique in ways you never knew...like, why doesn't everyone play the guitar? Oh wait...they do. Fucking I play the guitar! I used it to pick up my boyfriend! I was like, how do I show him that I'm cool, without literally telling him that I'm cool? Hmmmmm...HEY! *lightbulb* I play the fucking guitar, don't I??? And it totally worked, too. I totally made him think that I was going to be okay with it when he went on the road with HIS band and I wouldn't try to change him, but of course none of that is true...what is shorthand if not implication, and what is implication if not assumption? I'm getting off on a tangent. The point is, it worked. And I'm so smart, I even pretended like I didn't know it was working, or that I was doing anything at all. I distinctly remember having this conversation, "why does everyone think it's hot if a girl plays guitar??" Bahahahaha. If only he knew. Which he now does, because he reads this blog. Hey babe! You used up the toilet paper and didn't refill it AGAIN. Anyway...the fact that everyone and their mom has/plays a guitar makes it so everyone and their mom is a sensitive cool tormented rock and roll bitch with feelings. No wonder girls date assholes. One, I'm gonna come out and say it, it's kind of sexy to be treated like shit (before you have a conniption, the operative word here is: Sometimes), and two, FUCKING JOCKS who can't play an instrument (this discounts all you jerks who think you're Dave Matthews) are starting to look like the ones who are daring to be different.

To make matters worse, I'm fairly certain that my haircut - while being undeniably awesome - is wearing me, instead of the other way around.

This is what I've been pondering lately. And you want to know why I'm depressed.

Walk Hard

Kyle and I went to a midnight showing of Walk Hard last night. It was only okay; instead of being moderately funny all the way through, it was awful at parts and absolutely hysterical at others. I think last night marks the moment that I realized that Jews Control the Media! jokes are no longer funny at all. The best part, BY FAR, was the part with the Beatles. I'm pretty sure it would be worth at least a matinee ticket to see that part. As long as you don't live in LA where a matinee ticket is 10 dollars.

Is it The Hills or Shakespeare?

A couple of weeks ago, my friend Lauren alerted me to this quiz on the Radar Magazine website. Do you know the difference between what is considered Drama in the 17th Century and that from the 21st?

Is it The Hills or Shakespeare?

For the record, I made an 8 out of 10. The score isn't bad enough for me to need to re-read Shakespeare, and it also isn't good enough for me to feel bad about knowing too much about The Hills. Or at least that's what I'm telling myself, dammit.

Oops.

Sum 41's "Fat Lip" just came on, and when everyone in the room kind of perked up, I thought it was because they all knew the words too. But they didn't, and everyone looked at me funny. Wah.

Juno

Kyle and I just saw Juno, which was way heavier a movie than we anticipated. As Kyle said (sounding exactly like the child's role in an after-school commercial), "that movie, like, dealt with issues I've had to deal with."

I would add my two cents here, but to tell the truth, I know I'm not the best source of emotional information right now: I was in tears over the Wonder of Reading infomercial before the previews, which featured Julie Andrews narrating over stark images of ravaged school libraries in the Southern California area. So I was all cried out by the time the movie started.

I can say that we had a good time, though. I can say that.

Sleepless in LA

That title was obnoxious; I apologize. I'm just here writing because Kyle's on MY SIDE of the bed and snoring. Good thing we bought a queen sized bed and a special foam mattress. What investments.

This just in: I'm a fucking brat.

Also, I slept till 3pm today and I'm not tired. The tone of this entry is probably a little weird, I've been dealing with this minor hangover all day and it's been throwing me off my game. I had, like, four glasses of fantastic red wine last night. Really incredible. I think I might be classing up my have-a-friend-over nights a little...Believe me, I'm just as surprised as you are.

Back to reading blogs.

JESUS CHRIST. Or should I say...JESUS CRISTO.

I live in a mostly Hispanic neighborhood. It's nice because they're mostly families and so there's a minimum of whistling/cock-grabbing when females walk around, which I appreciate.

Tonight, however, there is a HUGE...something going on down the street. I know this because there's a live band somewhere playing that weird spanish-language polka music so loud that my windows are rattling. There's also a constant whispering sound that I recognize as the sound of a thousand voices screaming (all that time clocked at rock concerts in my youth) a couple blocks away, punctuated by occasional whistles and "Ay-yi-yi-yiiiiiiiiiii!!!!!!!"s. I know it's only 7:30, but I'm pretty much ready for bed. SORRY I'M LAME, but I wish this were going on inside somewhere just so I could go over and knock on their floor/walls with a broom handle.

Cereal Girl

Is there anything more depressing than eating dry Raisin Bran straight from the box? Kyle bought a quart of whole milk and I don't relish the idea of all that milkfat.

Bus Conversations

Two conspiracy theorists discuss the war in Iraq. They contend and concur that there are lots of suspect American interests in Iraq.

Conspiracy Theorist 1: It's obvious that there's some other reason behind our going to Iraq besides getting rid of Saddam.

Conspiracy Theorist 2: Yeah, and the American people can't even be sure that we caught him. So they showed us some guy with a beard. What does that tell us? Nothing.

Conspiracy Theorist 1: And everyone knows the CIA has been in the Middle East for, like, years.

You Know Your Blog is Chic-Lit When...

I know I'm PMSing when I start to throw a fit over the fact that the bed needs to be made every day.

Seriously though, GOD DAMMIT. *throws linens on the floor*

File Under D for: Distraction, Driven to

I'm back, finally. I had to log off everything and buy more internet time (Do you have any idea how far $10 will go at an internet cafe? It will go 300 minutes far! That's a long time!) And then when I logged back on I got distracted by Net-a-porter.com. Hey, it happens, and I don't need to justify myself to you. Okay, I'm going to justify myself to you. The Miu Miu belt that I've been coveting/stalking has been moved from the New Belts section to the SALE section, and I think I might buy it for myself soon. But I have not yet completely felt the fullness of time...which is a long way of saying that I just blew a wad of cash yesterday on Christmas presents (and a wholly selfish trip to Sephora), and spening yet more on myself would make me feel guilty. Excuse me, more guilty.

Los Angeles is the lonliest place in the world sometimes, and when I first moved here I felt like I would never have a friend of my own. A real friend, I mean. I'm gregarious enough to warrant "work friends" or to become friends with Kyle's friends, but those are different concepts altogether. I'm starting to feel like I'm acheving some coherence here now. I haven't yet figured out school, but I'm financially stable, and I have a nice place to live which is really coming together now (a bed, and last night Kyle brought home a 37 inch flatscreen TV. Sounds lavish, I know, but one of his friends from work is moving to Alaska to become one of those Perfect Storm fisher guys on Thursday and needed to get rid of everything ASAP, so he sold it to us for a fraction of its original price.), and my job is tolerable but leading somewhere better. And I have friends now. A couple of friends. It's nice, and getting nicer.

Kyle and I are very excited about Sweeney Todd coming out soon, and Juno. The previews for the latter was especially nice to see because it feels like a mini-Arrested Development-reunion with my two favourite guys. Except for Will Arnett, I liked him quite a bit too. Looks like he's too busy posing with his ridiculously cute wife in Gap ads right now, though. PSH.

The thing I'm most excited about this week, though, is my 3 year anniversary with Kyle. It's this Wednesday. THREE YEARS. Jesus Christ. I would think of something sappy to say but I don't really feel sappy. I feel astonished. Really purely surprised, in a way that I haven't felt since I tossed my hat in the air and realized that high school really truly was over. Where did all that time go? And on the other hand, it feels like it's been a lifetime. I complain a lot about him, but if it really had been that long, it wouldn't have been a bad life. It would have been the best.

Jesus God

So I'm in front of a Desktop computer now, for the first time in a couple of weeks at least...in the internet cafe around the corner from our apartment. It's like being in the computer lab at school, haha. I have so much to do right now and so very little patience, but I'm going to try and write something for the sake of my own obsessive compulsive tendencies. NaBloPoMo was great for that; I got to fixate on whether or not I'd posted for the day, and which goals I wasn't fulfilling that day. I managed to fail with the "at least 5 lines per post" thing a couple times, and I never once managed to write five paragraphs after I made that decision public, but I POSTED EVERY DAY DAMMIT. Even - especially - when I had nothing to say. And today shall be no different.

I haven't checked my facebook or myspace accounts, or even my email, in sooo long. I have so many overdue and neglected messages languishing in every account I've opened so far. I feel terrible, but the longer I stay away from the computer, the more likely I am to not return. I dunno. Now that I've finally sat down and gotten myself current, though, I'll be sure to have the jones again. I only have 12 minutes on my card left...so I need to wrap up this entry...and go recharge it. Blah.

It's December Already????

So, that was November. I did NaBloPoMo, and even though I posted every day, I lost internet connectivity halfway through and that really took the juice out of it for me. My content was more lacking than usual, which was the EXACT OPPOSITE of the point. In any case, I'm proud that I did it, in whatever capacity. I will do it again next year and it will be better...that's all you can really ask for, right? Just to get better and better. Thanks for putting up with this. One of these days I'm going to sit in front of a PC and reformat all these shits I've been sending from my phone into real blog entries, and maybe even type some new blog entries while I'm at it. Maybe tomorrow! But probably not.

I love you guys. You're the best.