When You Know Someone Too Well...Something Like This Happens

Isaiah: i ran out of shampoo today
and conditioner

me: whaaaat!
WORST
did you discover it before or after you were already in the shower?

Isaiah: i was already in the shower
alone and vulnerable

me: hahaha oh noes!

Isaiah: yep

me: that sucks

Isaiah: i still feel damaged

me: hahaha
did you go and get some today?!

Isaiah: no

me: well what the hell then

Isaiah: hahaha

me: i don't have any sympathy for you

Isaiah: i will later

me: whatever! it's 7 your time.
you're going to smoke out later and call me at 6AM rambling about macbeth

Isaiah: you gotta problem with that?!
then change your number bitch!!!
cause you're mine after 5 a.m.

Dude. Fuck. Seriously.

So...I have been away for a week! I wasn't taking a hiatus on purpose, it was just one of those things where I went out of town and didn't sit in front of a computer, and fell out of the habit of thinking of things to talk about here. And then my parents and I had a fight so I've been too depressed to write. BUT I figure I'll try to get back into the swing of things by summarizing my weekend.

I saw Kyle's band play at the Cat Club (after a long and arduous process of trying to get into LA in the first place) on Thursday - it was totally worth all the trouble I went through to get there. I took a bunch of videos, and I was going to post one here, but the video editing program I downloaded (which has proven to be something of a problem, given the fact that I use Vista and .AVI files) needs to be a paid-for version before it lets me post anything without a big fat watermark in the middle. Enough sob stories about that. Maybe I'll just post a quick something from the weekend...


Intro and Last Song from Priya on Vimeo.

Okay. I hope you enjoyed that.
Then on Friday I mostly read Chaucer (because I had a presentation this Monday and needed to actually do the reading for once) during the day. Later, I went to see Coraline in 3D. That was UNREAL. I had a major Los Angeles Moment when I realized that someone was smoking out in the theatre and, since I was sitting in the last row, the smoke was wafting over me for the whole show. That was pretty interesting. Towards the end though, I mostly pitied the person who actually smoked the stuff, because shit got really scary, really fast. I just knew it would have turned into a really bad trip if I had been high. I found it to be very Gothic, which I liked. The more I read 19th century literature, the more I believe that I may be, like, into Goth shit. I shudder to think such a thing, but: rapier wit, a taste for the subversive and baroque, a high school career spent spinning in Glam and Punk rock, Morrissey, rare steak, a somewhat welcoming attitude towards death, the sneaking suspicion that I'm an evil genius lurking in disguise, deep and abiding ennui, a certain seething rage and simultaneous nonchalance at the ubiquitousness of human suffering...well, as Dr. Ian Malcolm would say: there it is. Anyway...

Later that night we went to see a midnight showing of The Princess Bride. I saw it once with my parents about...five years ago, but at that point I was more interested in watching Memento. Now I can appreciate the brilliance that can be accomplished even in movies for children - especially in movies for children, since it happens right under your nose. It was an old reel, I guess, and it kept slipping off the projector and stalling the movie. It was a good time, though.

Then, just as I was hitting my stride, it was time to come back to the grind and spend my nights sweating in anticipation of an uncertain future, as per the fucking usual. Spring break is coming up, though, and with it, SXSW, which should prove to be an adventure at the very least. In the meantime, I'm here. I'm here, I'm here, I'm here. And I'm in a mood.

California Driving

To be fair though, this is pretty much what it was like even before the law went into effect.

SURPRISE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was gone all weekend because I flew out to Houston to surprise Kyle for his birthday! Because I am awesome! AND I am a really excellent girlfriend. It totally worked, too! Dinner was great, the party back at the apartment after dinner went off without a hitch.

I had a great time - basically Kyle and I just ran around LA and got ice cream and our favourite food and hung out with our friends and watched movies (I introduced him to JAWS - He hadn't seen JAWS yet, can you fucking believe that!?) in bed all weekend. I also bought Forgetting Sarah Marshall (which was AWESOME) and Almost Famous, so I can take a small chink out of my Cameron Crowe Guilt.

I would write more but I did not take a shower before I went to the airport this morning and now I feel gross. So I'm going to do that. And then I will probably watch Forgetting Sarah Marshall again. And then maybe I'll watch Almost Famous. And then I'll probably watch Forgetting Sarah Marshall again. And then I'll be like FUCK I HAVE TO READ 10 CHAPTERS FROM DAVID COPPERFIELD AND WRITE A 5 PAGE PAPER ON SOME TOPIC I HAVENT EVEN CHOSEN BY TUESDAY!!!!!!!! And then I'll read the SparkNotes and feel really guilty about it. And then I'll write the paper in 5 hours on Monday night and feel fine about it.

Okay I'm gross. I really need that shower.

Story of My Life

This is not an original thought, but I need to just smile and nod when other people talk, and do whatever I want to do anyway. It's worked out for me thus far, and I have no reason to believe that it will stop working...ever.

Down-On-Your-Luck Actors Rejoice

God, this is the year of the Downey, isn't it? He's been confirmed to play Sherlock in some upcoming Sherlock and Holmes thing (which I think originally had Seth Rogen and Will Farrell as Sherlock and Watson for some reason), but they're still looking for a Watson. AND I JUST HEARD THAT JUDE LAW WANTS TO PLAY HIM.

HA! Jude Law, second fiddle to Robert Downey Jr. Five years ago this never would have happened. I'm glad to be alive in a time when it was possible. Who knows, if this Palin woman ever comes to power, everything could change.

Here's a hilarious video where he says one of my favourite lines of his from Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang: "uh, I got priors, so, uh - I'm gonna roll, okay". Wait for it.



PS. I realize the title actually has nothing to do with this entry, but I wrote it on kind of a lark and realized that after living only a year in LA, I already know so many "out of work actors" that I felt bad telling them to rejoice and then taking it back. They all need to rejoice whenever they get a chance; they're always losing work to people who have whiter teeth. Hug the unemployed thespian in your lives today, people! And now back to your regularly scheduled misanthropy.

That's LA.

People want to know what living in LA is like. Mostly I tell them that it's exactly what you think it's like: the celebrities doing Just Like Us! stuff, the clubs, the Hollywood sign. But it's also like this:



Imagine 20 million copies of that blonde woman running around. You think that would be a pain in the ass, right? That's LA.

Back Again

I'm back in Houston. LA was...well.

I remembered how much fun I had when I lived there. It was dangerous living, to be sure - I was constantly scraping for cash, and we lived in kind of a questionable neighborhood, but I never felt bad about it. I thought that, if you had to be poor, the best time for it would be when you're young, right? It was pretty romantic. Even when it wasn't romantic, I was thinking in the back of my mind about how I would phrase these stories for people with cushy lives who were inevitably jealous of me and my "maturity". I looked down on them. I looked down on them because I used to be one of them, and I knew how pathetic their lives were. They were like fat little mice, mindlessly dragging from one worthless pleasure to the next (worthless because they were so plentiful), never experiencing the loss that makes gain so sweet.
Where's the excitement in always knowing where your next meal is going to come from?

I wore the same clothes every day; I wore them to shreds. I wore holes in the bottom of my shoes. I had one cheap beer if I went out - just enough to notice that suddenly I was the only person with a warm drink because I didn't want to finish before everyone else and be left with empty hands while my editor/producer/designer friends sloshed theirs all over the floor.

And now I'm one of them again. I'm a pudgy, mindless animal, too. I don't have to think and dance to stay on my feet; now I'm one of the class who bullies to stay upright. My access to sweet treats is limitless - now I feel righteous by denying myself things I would enjoy. It's sick, how fast I've made this turn: one minute I'm indulging to feel good, and five hours later, I'm in the next time zone and I punish myself to feel good now.

The rich and the poor are animals. We are brutish and blind and cruel. And the more I strive to use my mind, the clearer it is to me that I'm one of the only people doing so, and that I have very far to go yet.

Reality

I submitted my two weeks' notice at my job yesterday, which doesn't mean that I'm leaving LA in two weeks, but it IS a concrete step towards the end of this era in my life. Again, mixed emotions; SO ready to be done with everyone I have to deal with as a part of my job (if I could perform in an interpersonal vacuum, I would), but dragging my heels about the finality of it. I feel mostly sad...the pros of my move (besides the obvious seeing my best friends again - for the first time in years, in some cases) are mostly abstract, and the cons are entirely concrete.

Boys! Boys! Boys!

Last night Kyle texted me while I was at work that he, M2 and D (M2's husband) were going out to play bocce ball in the park and that after, they were going to pick me up and we'd get dinner. BOCCE BALL! Hah! Anyway, we ate at Barney's Beanery, which is a fun bar/restaurant in West Hollywood and the boys watched the Mariners/Angels game and were the only people watching (other than a pair of fun lesbians in the corner, who spied Kyle's Mariners hat and made themselves known as friends). When I asked them how the game was going (my back was to the TV), they both looked so enthused that I had to take a picture...with my phone:

Last Night, Explained

Went to Maddox's birthday party last night. He was nice.

Meanwhile, my hangover is not so nice, so I'm going to pop a couple Advil and go back to bed.

Do the Math

1 Internet Celebrity
1 Room Full of Improv Fanatics
3 Beers
+ 4 Inch Heels
___________________
1 Headache

Horror in LA

Dear Sir,

I know what that tattoo on your forearm means.

Whoa,
-Priya

Yes they are!

Kyle: PRIYA. Not everyone is a tweaker with a gun. I love how that's the potential of every stranger that you meet.

Overheard in the Nail Salon

I was getting my nails done this afternoon (an excursion which took two fucking hours because I chose the busiest day of the year and wanted the most popular thing - airbrushing - done, believe you me I only stayed because you have to pay up front...the bastards) and in an unanticipated move of sweetness, the salon had a flatscreen TV playing True Lies on the wall. So I was watching Arnold stuff his hilariously boulder-like back of yesteryear into a dress shirt and pretend to be a square sales representative by day/ secret government operated organization spy by night for about an hour before this Criss Angel type joker walked in the front door. "MANI PEDI?" the nail ladies yelled. "Pedi," he replied, and sat down next to me.
Next up was a shootout scene, where Arnold's fat partner hides behind a lamppost while in Middle Eastern crossfire. The joke is a visual one; "BUT HE'S FAT! HOW COULD A LAMPPOST POSSIBLY PROTECT HIM!?" And yet somehow it does. I laughed because at some point you just have to stop giving a fuck, and Criss Angel Ripoff Boy goes, "YEAH RIGHT! That would never happen." And this continued for a few scenes (until I moved to a different seat) including one where Arnold rides a stallion through a fancy hotel lobby into a glass elevator.

I know a lot of movies are going for the whole "This Really Happened/Is Happening" thing (Fargo, Blair Witch Project) but I don't think True Lies was ever supposed to be one of them. Please - correct me if I am mistaken on this point.
Also, please correct me if I'm wrong about how fucking unattractive the Criss Angel aesthetic is. Actually, don't correct me. Let me continue the lie; I don't know if I could continue an existence wherein a multitude bandannas/ skull imagery/ man-rings -necklaces constitute a "look".

The Devolution of Dinner Conversation

"Listen, I feel bad about nagging him - "

"Yeah I know! I feel bad for always bossing him around and correcting him, but maybe I wouldn't have to if he had some direction and wasn't always wrong, so very wrong all the time!"

"I feel bad about nagging him but I can't help it if he's terrible at life!"

"I can't help it if he's stupid!"

"I can't help it if he sucks!"

"I can't help it if I rule!"

"I can't help it!"

"I CAN'T HELP IT EITHER." *falls out of chair*

MarBlo, Day 4 (Part I)

ARRRGHHH you guys, I made it TWO DAYS and then forgot to post yesterday. I'm such a fuck. Anyway, here's the post I had planned and all typed up in my Sidekick for publishing yesterday.

I've lived in Los Angeles for about a year now, and celebrities really are everywhere. I saw Melanie Griffith in the subway, like, my first week here, and the sightings haven't abated since. I used to get a major kick out of it, but now...not so much. Cynics say that they don't see anything special about celebrities; that "they're just normal people, that acting/singing is their job," and all that is true. Except the 'normal' part. Celebrities are aliens beamed down from Planet Crazy, and the following points are some ideas I have on ways to interact with them more effectively.

1. If/when you see David Spade, stay calm; it's not a big deal. He is EVERYWHERE. After a year of just missing him, I finally saw him the other day in a Sephora of all places, and I was perturbed that it had taken me this long to find him.

2. Same goes for Andy Dick, but only in Hollywood.

3. The closest you will come to seeing Britney Spears is her paparazzi cloud. They show up before she does, swarm briefly like gnats, and never linger. It's strange...I mean, we all know that she calls them, but why? I think she does it because she wants a fan-buffer, a built in posse that keeps anyone from telling her No about anything.

4. Beverly Hills, dude. I was there for about a week and I saw Flava Flav and Janice Dickenson within 24 hours of each other. Go there.

5. Never EVER tell a celebrity that you "know them" or make any reference to his or her "work". Whether it's a film, album, political stand, their support of full maternity leave for their workers in Bangladesh...DO NOT BRING IT UP. Speak to them only when spoken to, and then, only about innocuous stuff like frozen yogurt or weekend plans.

6. When discussing weekend plans with a celebrity, do NOT say anything depressing. Your Friday night plans might very well consist of changing lightbulbs and drinking Schlitz alone in your basement, but tell the celeb that you're doing "nothing special, relaxing, I guess I'll see what comes up," and leave it at that. Otherwise the celeb will feel bad about his or her plans to sail a 50 foot yacht around the Bermuda Triangle at midnight.

7. West Hollywood is another great place to find celebrities, especially the Whole Foods there. Also, Melrose Ave. Almost anywhere on Melrose.

8. Despite what I mentioned earlier, paparazzi are no guarantee that a celebrity will show. Bentleys are NEVER a good sign. They draw too much attention, and these days, the truly rich and famous are going for hybrids anyway.

One thing about LA

Is that you have to be really ON YOUR SHIT when you're driving, I mean really utterly in control of your vehicle, because if you're not...consequences will be wrought. Once I was slow driving through an intersection after a red light and a mob with pitchforks and flaming torches formed behind me. Seriously, people die every day because of shit like that. And you better be thankful that nobody just drove over you with their Hummer.

I'm hitting a, how do you say? WALL.

Usually when people talking about hitting walls it is either in the past or future tense. I hit a wall yesterday. I will hit a wall tomorrow. That kind of thing. Today I experienced a new and previously unknown sensation: HITTING a wall. I saw it coming up in the distance, and as I drew nearer to it, I grew more and more certain that it was unavoidable. Then, like a slow-motion crash-test video, I slammed into the wall, face-first.
I think I'm almost done with LA's attitude problem.
Or I might get rhinoplasty.
Or I might jump/be pushed into a vat of acid.

I guess we'll find out soon enough.

CelebZOMG!

Every time I see some big shot celeb I think that it can only go downhill and everyone I spot from here on out is going to be, like, Spencer Pratt inconsequential...like when we saw Jim Carrey last month? I thought that was it for me and my ascent to viewing the #1 celeb (Britney at critical mass).

All this to preface me telling you that I saw Dustin Hoffman today. And I am apparently back in the game.