documenting craigslist

As a self-proclaimed expert on craigslist,* I had to see the newly-released-to-DVD documentary 24 Hours on Craigslist. What a disappointment. You can only imagine the documentary I could make on this thing (I hear the "amens" from some of my loyal readers). This is not nearly as colorful. It's confusing in points, and you really have to wonder why the fuck the director included some stupid banter from this gay-male couple that makes no sense and appears way too much (and its relationship with CL is tenuous at best).


* All the time I spend voyueristically reading things on the personals board finally paid off when I cited, in my recent paper on cruising and public sex between men, that you can learn who cruises, where, and where public sex is occurring on the missed connections section (among other places designed for such activity).

musicals, schmusicals

I finally bought the soundtrack to Hedwig and the Angry Inch, which I've wanted for a really long time. So I've been singing along while blogging and doing other procrastination-related activities.

The music is just so damn good. It makes me think, "Why aren't there more contemporary rock musicals?!" But then I remember the only musicals I actually really like are Hedwig and Victor/Victoria (then there are maybe a couple others I can tolerate).

What are the common patterns? The obvious is the gender-bending component that is integral to both. But what makes them musicals I can even stand, let alone love, is the fact that all the singing actually makes sense in the plot and moves the narrative forward. They aren't singing just to sing. They don't stop in the middle of the street and perform some over-choreographed goofy song. Both of the central figures are also performers in the plots of the stories. And the stories are well developed and plausible.

i'd come to mama if only it was signed better

Since people, when finding out I'm getting a Ph.D. in urban planning, often remark about the need for planning or ask my advice on how to overhaul things and then I have to explain how I don't plan (and no one with a Ph.D. in planning does). But you know what, I'm going to offer some advice now: when opening a store, have an easy-to-read sign that makes some sense to both drivers and pedestrians (adjust as needed to specific sites).

What brings this about? During each of Andrew's visits to L.A. in the last few months, he's asked me about (and we've tried to spot) the store Come to Mama, which is owned by a friend of his sister's that they hadn't heard from in awhile. He was convinced it was very near where I live. But I couldn't locate it. Then a couple of weeks ago I was walking and noticed a partially painted over "come to ma." Aha! I've located its former location, and assumed it was gone. Then tonight I was walking around there again and while waiting for the walk signal, I noticed that Come to Mama is alive and well. Hell, Allie and I walked through it when she visited in December (I live among all these cute little shops I never go into because they are overpriced and not really all that useful to me, but somehow I get some sort of pleasure out of their existence...I mean, it's a lot better than some chain shit).

The reason I couldn't find the damn place--even as a pedestrian with time to contemplate and stare at signs on the opposing block--is its stupid sign. The store is very narrow and is adjacent to another store that is its mirror image. Together they have this ridiculous sign (I'll take a photo and post it when I get a chance). Between the color scheme and the font, it's almost unreadable. The names are positioned vertically rather than horizontally, which further adds to the confusion (and Come to Mama is on top, but it's located on the right).

Then I googled the thing, discovered it was "mama" rather than "mamma" and found this synopsis.

who knew christina ricci had such good taste in architecture?

Christina Ricci has put her Los Feliz home on the market for $3.1 million. Big fucking deal, I know. Ordinarily I wouldn't care to report such news. But it's a beautifully restored (by Diane Keaton) Lloyd Wright (Frank Lloyd Wright's son) house that Keaton previously owned. That is kind of cool.

postmodern flânuer

I think I've been a bit depressed lately. I've been going to sleep early, waking up several times in the night, and sleeping a lot more than eight hours. This is at a time when I really need to be productive, which is a problem. Since I spent most of the morning sleeping, I really needed to do something to kick my butt into gear. So I decided to sit outside, have a coffee (I need the caffeine), and read a book for the paper I'm writing on the disappearance of public sex spaces for gay men.

Yes, I am seriously writing a paper on that. Gay men and how they use urban space continues to fascinate me. I don't understand my interest fully, but I have some ideas. I'm known to say that I should have been a gay man. In fact, I said it this morning after remarking how I couldn't believe John Cameron Mitchell turns 43 today. All men over 40 should look so good!

Sitting outside on Sunset Blvd. in front of Tsunami was the perfect place to read Backward Glances which wrestles with the difference between a cruiser and a flânuer and the ultimate ambiguity of the modern city. Naturally, I wanted to sit some place where I might be able to observe people as well, though the number of people who passed on foot was pretty small. I only left my perch when it became too cold to sit, the wind blowing pretty strongly for L.A. and the hiding of the sun behind some bizarre clouds. But it gave me an opportunity to watch (and contemplate if the business-looking grey-haired man who left his car with a black bag was indeed returning something to Rough Trade) and be seen, which is what a flânuer desires.

And now I'm really feeling the effects of two substances I try to avoid: caffeine and sunlight. I'm all jittery and better return to my reading.

a pretty shade of green will get you every time

I just bought the new and improved Swiffer. Watch the cute little demo videos on the website and you'll be amazed at how fucking good this thing is. Too bad that using the two wet and two dry cloths that come with the thing wasn't enough to clean the tiny amount of flooring I have (most of the place is some ugly carpeting...god I miss hardwood floors). Now what do I do? Do I eat the sunk cost of this experiment (then what would I use to clean?) or buy refills? Why is stuff like this so ridiculously difficult for me?

who's stalking you at trader joe's?

I just returned from my weekly trip to Trader Joe's. It's something to look forward to, because I go when it's least crowded but you're still bound to see attractive men. Today I didn't notice any (ok, fine, there was one guy but he was shopping with a woman so that's just as good as not seeing him) because I got an interesting surprise.

There are weird bottlenecks at the Silver Lake Trader Joe's. The parking lot is a disaster. We all know that. But then the entrance quite often either produces people dillydallying and blocking the way or people who are close on your tail when they could go around you quite easily. Today I got the latter. I was just about to mutter under my breath something about personal space when Anna tapped me on the should and said, "Stephanie!" She wanted to follow me around the store. I would have noticed soon enough my tailgater was someone I actually knew, but since I like to be the one person in L.A. that doesn't stare at people for no reason I didn't feel the immediate need to look at who was invading my personal space.

I never see people I know in Trader Joe's (ok, one time yes, but I didn't want to see that person), but yet I see people chatting with friends all the time in there. It was very weird, especially since I noticed how Anna wasn't online this morning before work. AND I had just been doing research on where to see Friends with Money since we both want to see it and I was trying to avoid the high price of Arclight.

Gotta love irony.

what kind of blogger would i be if i didn't mention the irony of the birth of the TomKat offspring (help us!) and Brooke Shields on the same day?

It's been a long time, hasn't it? It's not like I've really done anything exciting. It's the very end of the semester so I'm about to lose my mind. I spent this past weekend held up in my apartment furiously reading and writing for an exam (two essays) that determines whether or not I get to continue with my Ph.D. It's just pass/fail, but there's still this drive to do the best you can under the circumstances. I mean, I don't want to embarrass myself. I'm willing to do it in many situations, but intellectually is just too much of a poke at my pride.

I did spend the previous Sunday with my friend Andrew driving around the 'hood looking at Schindler and Neutra houses. That was pretty cool. If I ever get un-lazy I'll even download (and post!) the embarrassingly touristy photo I took of him in front of the Hollywood sign outside Hollyhock House (not Schindler or Neutra...can we guess who? he's more famous...). Naturally, Dad, Allie, and I posed there ourselves last June. There's a project. Post them together.

It's sort of surreal to have bought tickets to fly "home" last night. I've been talking about it for ages because my brother is graduating high school (fingers crossed) and then we have a relative's wedding in Charlotte. But I've actually made the commitment (June 6-17). And damn, it's pretty soon. Oh how I can't wait to see my city and you bet your ass I'm going to the National Building Museum ASAP.

i'm a published photographer!

Yes, that's right! Not in some fancy photography magazine (what ever gave you that impression?). Instead in the latest issue of the academic journal California History (vol. 83, no. 3) in Greg Hise's "Sixty Stories in Search of a City." Click the image for a better look. It is over 4 MB so be patient if you use the trolly form of internet access.

it kinda has that holiday mass mailing feel to it just in time for daylight saving time

I'm so proud of my Allie. Today she won the prize for best paper presented at the CHASA conference! "Another Girl, Another Planet: The Transgender Lovers of Different For Girls" applies theory developed by Judith Halberstam in In A Queer Time and Place: Transgender Bodies, Subcultural Lives to the film Different For Girls by exploring the transgendered nature of the lover of a transsexual. Do you follow?

Just goes to show the apple doesn't fall too far from the sibling. I like to think I get a little credit for indoctrinating her with a multitude of progressive thinking and concepts through my incessant raving over the years.

Lookout! The Frank Sisters are infiltrating academia.