Tuesday, February 21, 2006

unknown white male

I'm writing to tell you all to rush out and see a documentary that will be released shortly called Unknown White Male. I dragged my butt all the way to Santa Monica to see a free preview screening of it this evening and it was damn worth it.

It is about Doug Bruce who inexplicably lost his experiential memory overnight. He woke up on a subway train in Coney Island and had no clue who he was. The film follows him as he reconstructs his life and his identity.

It's such a powerful film for me because at the core are so many themes relating to memory and identity. That is essentially what I study. I can't explain my intense interest and attachment to dissecting memory, how it's constructed, used, and to what ends. The film is an excellent teaching tool and clearly illustrates the profound importance memory plays to individuals, which feed to a larger whole. I'm failing to articulate the grandness I see in the film, but I think I need some time to digest it (plus, I've got one killer headache). I want to see it again. I want you to see it. I want to discuss it.


P.S. Allie has started a new blog that seeks to do that last bit.

clap your hands say yuck yuck

Tell me why I hear all this clatter about how unbelievably awesome Clap Your Hands Say Yeah Yeah is? I finally heard them since I'm listening to the archive of Allie's latest show (she played "Heavy Metal"). How can people listen to that?! It was a step above nails on a chalk board, really.


P.S. Why the fuck was Taix closed last night for Presidents' Day? That was unbelievable. I wanted my filet mignon and that orange sherbet. Oh wait, I could make my own orange sherbet. Hmmm...

Saturday, February 18, 2006

priestly privates

My blog is a great catalyst for even funnier happenings. Just now I'm talking on the phone with Allie about this image that Anna sent me yesterday, which she found browsing lpsg.org. It's of Jason Priestly, who I met when I was 11 because I won some contest through the junior's department of a department store (Hecht's? Woodies?). Anyway, point is, the image makes me think of his days playing Brandon Walsh (I can relate anything to 90210) working at the Beverly Hills Beach Club. Then it hits me with a loud thud that the show had no concept of L.A. geography (or at least the way it presents it to the non-L.A. world). Beverly Hills is nowhere near the beach! Why would there be a Beverly Hills Beach Club?! This completely sends my world into some sort of bizarre orbit.

But wait, that's not all. In the effort to blog about that epiphany, I had to pull the image out for you to see. Well, I couldn't find the link in my browser cache. So I decided to search lpsg.org, and there I discovered there is a thread devoted to Jason Priestly and his large dick. He has a large dick?

Now things are starting to make sense.

Friday, February 17, 2006

large penis support group

I think the record of this blog clearly showcases my healthy interest in sexual knowledge. So when someone told me about this site, I thought this could be interesting for my magnum (XL) research. Give it a browse whether you've got a (big) dick or not. I joined so I could post and immediately got a private message from some guy. To which my referrer said, "horn dog."

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

magnum update update

It's been quite awhile since I mentioned my magnum experiments. Rest assured I'm going to get to the bottom of this quandary. This evening I got a report that both magnum and magnum XLs are horrible, "like steel curtains," I believe was the phrasing. There are other condoms on the market with more flexible and thinner latex and while they may not be as large all around as magnum XL, supposedly the thinner latex means they don't have to be.

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

stephanie rocks

As common a name as Stephanie is, there are few rock songs that feature it. The Velvet Underground have "Stephanie Says," which I thought was the only one for a long time. Then I saw Jason Falkner and he opened with "Stephanie Tells Me So." Now through serendipitous events, I've discovered The Inevitable Breakups (based in NYC) have "Stephanie." You can listen to it on their MySpace jukebox right now, but I've also added it as my profile song (though I can't be held responsible if you read this sometime in the future and it isn't anymore). Hell, I'll directly link you to the downloadable MP3.

Of course like every girl obsessed with skinny rock 'n' roll boys (in suits), I want someone to write a song about me! Come on, we all know I'm memorable in one way or another (in other words, plenty of material to draw on).

Monday, February 13, 2006

irony & film: yes, i dig it

and you should too.

disappointment is all around us

Yesterday I finally got my act together and went to Ticketbastard to get my ticket for Nada Surf for next week. And guess what? It's sold out. Unbelievable. They don't even play D.C. but play this shithole place in Baltimore (the 8x10) on my birthday noless, yet they sell out L.A. People warned me, I have to admit. Well, I'll check around as we get close and see what I can find, but it's ultimately not the end of the world. It would have been nice to see them play a full set, but I'll live.

Soon after that fiasco, I stepped into a Target for the first time since my boycott. I didn't buy a thing, but I'm sorry to say that Anna did. She went for the Choxie chocolates they've apparently been advertising like crazy (which I haven't seen). When I asked if it was worth it, she told me no and that she wouldn't be able to sleep because her womb would protest. And it should.

On the bright side, traffic was almost nonexistent (in the relative sense) on my way home this evening. That was unbelievable.

Sunday, February 12, 2006

(im)patience is a virtue(?)

I'm the first to admit that I am the most impatient person on earth. I'm always in a hurry. People constantly ask why, and I don't have a straight answer. I think a rather large part of it is my definitiveness. I know what I want and usually how to get it, so why the hell should I wait? Just watch me drive for an illustration.

But what happens when the adage "patience is a virtue" and people constantly nagging you to be patient actually inspire you to try your hand at patience? Disaster.

Nearly two months ago I made a conscious decision to be patient. What I was being patient for isn't as important as understanding that I deemed it worthy of patience. I was convinced that making this kind of sacrifice and compromise would yield something that I have wanted for a long time--and maybe even my impatience had been a roadblock to previous efforts. But as time passed, uncertainty grew, and my patience was trying (though I remained fiercely loyal to the experiment), I became unglued.

Well, my patience didn't pay off. The experiment only served to show that there's a reason for my impatience--the occurring phenomenon of me being burned for holding out on uncertain terms. In this trial, I'm convinced that the compromise was completely one-sided, which is dangerous, but also illustrative of my giving nature.

The moral of the tale? My impatience protects me from uncertainty and vulnerability. So stop fucking nagging me about it.

Friday, February 10, 2006

how much do your condoms cost?

Do you remember when I raved about my 99¢ Only Store experience? I said I didn't see any condoms. Well, I went back to the store to get a couple of things today and noticed two different 12-packs of condoms (regular and ultra-thin). They are Romantex brand, and it actually says on the package "Compare to TROJAN" (like with any generic product).

Can you trust a condom that can retail for as little as 8.25¢?


P.S. While I was there, I bought myself some conversation hearts. I haven't had them in years, but I figured it was worth it since they're the only valentine I'll get this year.

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

another odd year: stephanie turns 23

In the beginning of Defending Your Life, Albert Brooks's character (Daniel) says he plans to spend his birthday driving alone in his new BMW. His friend (played by James Eckhouse, aka Mr. Walsh) asks why he'd want to be alone on his birthday, to which Daniel responds, "What better day to be alone? I was born alone, I should be alone." You know I love Albert Brooks, but that is one idiotic statement. Was the vagina (and its owner) not in the room when you passed through it? Come on now.

Not only is the statement logically ridiculous, I don't agree with its meaning either. What better day to not be alone? I spend most of my time alone, and lately I've felt really lonely, which only intensified with my coming birthday and realizing that the people who have surrounded me for years can't physically be there. And it doesn't help that they write how much they miss me in their cards, either.

The day got off to a rocky start since I only got three hours of sleep. I had to get up early for my 8:30 class. It's a miracle I was able to stay up. It was my birthday and I was determined to enjoy it. I couldn't have asked for better weather. I was born during an ice storm, in which my parents drove from the then rural-urban fringe to Georgetown. Today it was well into the 80s. This is the first time I've spent my birthday in a non-winter climate. Last year it was in the 60s in the D.C. area, but the 80s, man, it's unbelievable. I'm not exactly itching for the days of uncertainty about my birthday plans, because you never know if the weather is going to keep you from traveling.

Between my classes I took a little (unsuccessful) shopping break on Lake Ave. in Pasadena. I'm obsessed with the idea of a new pair of shoes, and since I was told not to spend my birthday money on necessities, well, I should obey with a new pair of shoes. During this sprint, I got a surprise call from Andrew, the prospective Ph.D. student I hung out with about a month ago. He was freaking out about not having heard back when the school said he would. As someone who frequently experiences such anxiety episodes (especially lately), I'm surprisingly good at calming people down about that kind of thing.

The evening activities I had been hoping for failed to come through, but that's when good, sincere friends pick up the pieces. Anna and Mark took me to dinner at Malo, where we dined al fresco! Quite excellent food and an equally strong and tasty tequila sunrise. Then we walked over to Tiki Ti, where I had part of a rather massive tequila/fruit concoction. It was so big and heavy I needed both my tiny hands to support it. It was also very strong. But, no, I failed to get drunk. I don't think I was even tipsy. We dropped Mark off and then Anna and I went to Bigfoot Lodge, where we didn't drink anymore. Just a place to sit and talk.

And that was it. A lowkey celebration, which is what I wanted. Until next year...

Sunday, February 05, 2006

it's geek love

I'm a geek. And I'm attracted to geeks. I appreciate the aesthetic and confidence of non-geeks, but when it comes down to it, non-geeks are quite flaky and irritating, like dandruff, if you will.

So I was clicking through Washingtonpost.com this morning and happened upon some article on this website (an online dating site designed for geeks) gk2gk.com. As a geek and someone with enough online dating experience to fill a multivolume book, naturally, I had to do some more clicking.

Looking through this site I began to doubt my geekness. Alas I am not obsessed with video games, board games, computer-platform preference, or calculator type. Was I really a geek? Of course. The website just conceives of "geek" quite narrowly for its specific questions. When I happened upon "Top 10 Reasons Why Geeks Make the Best Catch," my confidence was restored.

I'm a geek and I want a geek. We can be weird together in our own little geek universe (defined however we conceive it, and preferably without any video games but with lots of style).

Friday, February 03, 2006

does your maid make a mess for you to clean?

I've long known that my maid has an irrational thought pattern. Gloria will go out of her way to climb on a chair to move (hide) things from their proper place where they rest (before she gets there)--and no, she doesn't put things in that vacated space.

But why did she do this?



I had left a bowl with a spoon and a fork on my desk, because I intended to clean it later. I have this thing about cleaning up things I use, not making others do it. Yeah, that's what she's there for, I know. But I also didn't want her to take the bowl and put it somewhere. It's a big complicated thing. Point is, why the hell did she think to dump that stuff (and leave it) in the big bucket of water I keep in my room to hydrate the air?

huntington troublemaker

I think there's something about the stuffiness and elitism of the Huntington that clashes with my iconoclastic aura. You've already heard about getting halway there before realizing I wouldn't be let in. Then yesterday I got there (after going the wrong direction off the freeway since I hadn't gone there from home before) and couldn't find a parking space! I can't believe so many people pay good money to go look at the stupid plants there. Anyway...

Today I finally got in there to do the research I need to do for my assistantship. Too bad it didn't help our project. At any rate, I couldn't help but notice everyone stare at me. It was bizarre. A sort of look of "I don't think you're supposed to be here" when clearly my badge indicates that I have just as much a right as you. It's probably my youthfulness (I've got to be one of the youngest readers), but who knows. Maybe they can smell the trouble I want to make.


P.S. If you didn't know, the Huntington is one of the premiere academic celebrity sighting spots, but naturally there's very restricted access. And of course I have no idea what these people look like.

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

teaching those damn new urbanists a thing about design...

Ok, not really.

Look, those New Urbanists drive me insane. Their taste in style makes my stomach turn. In theory they've got a good planning practice, but in reality, it doesn't work. In some ways it's exciting, but perhaps more frightening, that the Mississippi Gulf coast is going to be rebuilt in this manner. Maybe the opportunity to build from scratch will actually make the ideology more successful in practice (I contend that it adds to congestion rather than relieve it; see Kentlands and the expansive roadway required to access it). But, naturally, these damn designers don't know beans about social things or these silly notions we have about race and class. I distinctly recall Elizabeth Plater-Zyberk, Dean of the School of Architecture at University of Miami in Coral Gables and design partner of Andres Duany (granddaddy of New Urbanism), stating that race was not an issue in rebuilding the Mississippi coast at a talk during the SACRPH Conference. It's fucking Mississippi, you bet your white ass there's racial issues there. This of course lead to cocktail conversation later that night where I had to inform highly-educated people (at least one professor among them) that whiteness is race--being white means you have race, and even if the coast was mostly or wholly white, that doesn't mean there are no racial issues.

Ok, enough about my enlightened superiority and back to the article. It's an interesting look at Modernist architecture and techniques. Karrie Jacobs (my favorite Metropolis columnist) rightly points out that this illustrates that design has implications beyond curb appeal.

is it wrong to think this was sort of cool?

I was flying home from the Huntington Library late afternoon until traffic came to a stop on the 134 just before my exit onto the 2. Then I noticed smoke coming from the hills. As I got closer I could definitely see that something was indeed on fire, and it was probably a vehicle. I didn't smell anything, which I thought was unusual. But as I passed, sure enough it was a late model BMW on fire and I felt the heat as I passed. It didn't appear that anyone was hurt, so I feel okay saying that it was a cool sight.