well-placed bracelet

tonight at the hammer, a screening of splendor in the grass (selected by charlie white). though i dgaf about "sexually repressed teens living in 1920s kansas [or whereever]" or movies in general i'm pretty sure by the time six p.m. rolls around i'll be bored enough to make my way over. so it goes.

a quick one while he's away

so i spent all of last night and a good portion of today being completely depressed for what amounts to no reason at all and i just want to report: over it. sometimes i get really upset over absolutely nothing (seriously i had a great week) and all it really took was for me to simply go, "wait, london, what the fuck?"

chinatown express

so, i've discovered that i've become EVEN MORE of a lightweight. i don't even know how this has happened and while it's tight to be able to be at the tipsy-drunk line from one beer i think it's pretty ridiculous. isn't one's tolerance supposed to rise at some point?

i'm really enjoying the wealth of nations. i like that such a (econ professor alert) seminal, important book can also be a good read.

oh, pizzicato five at coffee bean, what's up? coffee beans play the most disparate array of music. i don't think coffee bean employees have any musical liberty but i'd love to walk in and hear some dead kennedys playing one day.

assorted flavors of gay

so, the trans bar was amazing. henry, ryan and i met up with marcus and two of his friends, and jake and patrick showed up later - such a random group of people to be hanging out with at such a place, but it worked much better than expected. i had so much fun. plus there was a sprinkling of straight girls so i wasn't completely out of place. afterwards henry, jake, patrick and i went to cactus where i smoked cigarettes and drank jake's cactus cooler while doing some mad people-watching/listening. then we all went home. now i'm in bed, reading art on paper and feeling kind of bad, but it's perfectly okay because the shitty feeling i have now is totally worth the great time i had last night, despite a failed tom waits pick-up line and too many "white points."

TONIGHT

i'm going to the silver platter AKA los angeles' best drag bar (thank you, l.a. weekly). a report later; now, i pre-game.

1776: didn't only happen in america

i'm putting aside everything else i'm reading -after many a summer dies the swan by aldous huxley and the puppet and the dwarf: the perverse core of christianity by slavoj zizek - to read something that i should have read two years ago: all 1028 pages of adam smith's the wealth of nations. it's going to be a long spring.

pencil traceries of our faintest wish

"and i say: that little ole elevator girl looking up sighing in an elevator full of blurred demons, what's her name & address?"
- from jack kerouac's introduction to robert frank's 1958 collection of photographs, the americans

"you'll love this song."

i'm fucking exhausted but i had a great time last night. maybe i'll elaborate later but right now i'm heading to the hart's for my friend's mom's birthday party.

in case you were wondering

appreciation post

thank goodness for matt gerdes. i haven't hung out with him or any members of his family in months and yet he always comes the fuck through when i need him.

in my younger days i used to sport a shag

the best thing about mcdonald's - or my local mcdonald's - is the 42 OUNCE SODA for 99 CENTS. it's so gross of me but during a hot day when you're in a car full of people and it's hot and your friend is being lame and not turning the air conditioner on 42 ounces of sprite is a godsend. plus it's enough soda for everyone if you don't mind sharing.

yesterday was a good day. i bought sunglasses, went to lunch with marakesh, SAW THE MOST AMAZING TRIBAL AFRICAN GUY GET OFF THE BUS (i know right), bought some ~essentials~ and books, took a nap, got lectured on religion by coffee bean patrons and went to low end theory. it was a pretty low key night. the same old shit happened: listened to music, danced, didn't dance, laughed at people dancing, got hit on by the randomest of dudes, smoked a million cigarettes. one rapper (danny brown?) flat-out sucked. his message was as follows: "your baby momma gave me head last night - p.s. kill yourself." what? but furious stylz (i know, lame name) was dope. they had a live drummer, who was awesome. one of the guys we met - from san dimas - kept looking around for us and it was so weird and obvious.

so yet another coffee bean has banned smoking from its outdoor seating area. that makes two (that i've noticed): the one on 3rd and la cienega and the one on westwood and weyburn. if this happens to my local coffee bean i will be absolutely distraught. and rule-breaking. speaking of "yet another" moments and smoking, when i went into a smoke shop today to buy cigarettes the employee there advised me to "stop smoking cigarettes and start smoking weed." um.

and to all the single ladiez: if you're ever feelin' lonely and have reached the point where you want to meet a guy and you aren't that picky or just want some male attention, go to coffee bean. you will get hit on. seriously unless you're grody there will be a bunch of dudes trying to get your number. actually maybe it's one of those "seek and ye shall not find" kind of things. ummmm never mind then.

you don't even know

maxfield always sends me the best emails

NO HOMO

so one of my bffs lily has been ~studying abroad~ in the netherlands and holy fuck i miss her. the people that know me in real life have heard this story a million fucking times but i hated her in high school - we had french together and she asked a million questions and had a perma-hard-on for death cab for cutie and rilo kiley (if you look closely it's still there) and i wasn't down. but i started hanging out with her a lot over the summer with henry (how did i even agree to that?) and realized that she is an amazing person, one of the best i know. i still don't understand her vegetarianism or her instant connection with every animal ever or how she puts up with my constant pontificating but somehow it works. right now she's probably bungee jumping off st. peter's basilica in russia or hanging out with karl lagerfeld in paris or something equally amazing but seriously she needs to be back home so we can argue about which of her dogs is better (p.s. it's annie) and not watch six feet under. also you should know that she pretty much dresses like that everyday.

what tribe she with, red dot or feather?

i got a barnes & noble gift card so i went kind of crazy and bought a lot of books today (cue space complaint). i got american minor, which is charlie white's latest series and probably the best book i bought today. i also purchased the beats: a graphic history (disappointing and childish. i should have read the spine because once i got home i discovered that it was made by the same people who did the equally disappointing malcolm x graphic novel), a book on political philosophy, i saw you: comics inspired by real-life missed connections (pretty good but kind of indie queer of me nonetheless), unlovable (a comic based on a diary the artist, esther pearl watson, found in a gas station bathroom in 1988), a richard estes retrospective (fuck yessss), and a book on the making of damien hirst's "for the love of god" (you know, the diamond-encrusted skull). there are still so many books i want! i am fucking insatiable.

a couple of months ago i was so pysched to find a dvd collection of every "schoolhouse rock" short (on sale, no less) but i just unearthed it under a pile of sweaters, and it hasn't even been unwrapped yet, let alone watched. shameful.

oh and i should confess something: i didn't really like the "art of two germanys: cold war culture" exhibit at lacma. i guess they thought it was a good idea as the 20th aniversary of the fall of the berlin wall approacheth but it definitely didn't resonate as well with me as it probably should have. it just didn't seem very relevant. maybe in 1994 i would have been down, 1999 even, but now cold war art seems to be too old to be à la mode and too new to be rediscovered and fully appreciated. i skipped the holocaust room entirely, and was bored or annoyed with all of the nazi imagery. but maybe that's just me. i hated the vanity fair exhibit when i saw it last year, too, and it seems as if everyone else adored it. perhaps i am too critical. but isn't that necessary in the art world?

ahhhhh

holy fuck i just saw the creepiest commercial i've ever seen. i'm not even joking, it scared with shit out of me. i'm not sure what's going on but justin timberlake was strapped to something with this crazed look on his face and then started forcing the rock (you know, the wrestler) to dance. the lighting was weird and i think they were in prison. also i should note that this is a fucking kid's choice awards commercial.

okay so i say this every week but i have NO book space. there are ten motherfucking books on my bedside table, and i'm only reading two. my room looks like someone exploded and instead of guts and a heart and stuff flying everywhere, there were books instead. it's such a problem.

speaking of books, i kind of want to clutter my room further with pete doherty's (i know right, throwback crackhead) newest, books of albion. i was totally obsessed with the libertines in 7th grade and maybe it's the 12/13 year old london in me but it looks interesting.

41 pounds

i had a great time at alex's birthday party last night. i kind of bitched out on the toga front but i don't think anyone minded. the only bad thing was that this stoned cal arts douchebag wearing a played-out hat kept hogging the music situation, playing party-inappropriate music and not obliging when anyone made a request. obviously if everyone sits down when you play a song but starts dancing when jasper plays one you're doing something wrong. but aside from that it was all good.

this has been the best sunday ever, also. i've just been reading and eating and somehow it's better than usual. maybe because i'm in a really good mood.

p.s. to those who know, new post at ndfas

nigga what

some old(er?) guy just walked up to me holding a bunch of baby bel cheese asking if i "know of any good parties goin' on in town tonight."

(p.s. henry that title's fo' youuu)

attn fatties

guys. i'm making candied pecans. they're almost done and when i was stirring them around on the baking sheet i tasted one and HOLY SHIT they're so good. um also i know that candied pecans aren't hard to make but i'm always really proud of myself when i cook anything.

baseball central

yesterday the most awkward thing happened. basically mara and i found what we believed to be an abandoned journal at starbucks and started to look through it, only to have the journal's owner end up standing right behind us. it was so fucking awkward but the guy and his friend were really good-natured, and it wasn't a journal, anyway. it was a book of production notes so we didn't even get busted for reading some juicy shit. lame.

two days ago i saw the "nine lives: visionary artists from los angeles" exhibit at the hammer and i loved it. i haven't really enjoyed or gained new insights from an exhibit in a long time so perhaps that made it so much better, but independent of that i think it was a great exhibit, presentation and all.

i've also started reading after many a summer dies the swan by aldous huxley after drooling over the title for i don't know how long (it's from an alfred, lord tennyson poem), delayed only by the fact that it is near-impossible to find in los angeles book stores. i'm really enjoying it so far, something i'm extra-happy about because i've been generally dissatisfied with the majority of novels i've picked up in the last few months. hopefully it stays interesting.

dear old people,

if i'm wearing headphones, don't try to talk to me. i can't hear you, and experience has shown that nothing you have to say is worth taking my headphones off for, anyway.
sincerely,
london

p.s.

what

life in hell

day two of jury duty/selection. it sucks. i'm not allowed to talk about the case but that doesn't matter anyway because it's nbd. am i even allowed to say that? whatever. true life: i'm breaking the law.

um but yeahhh i'm on my hour and a half lunch break which is one of the few tight things about this, as well as the fact that jurors get free moca admission. and i get to see lots of previously-thought-to-be-extinct specimen - women in business suits and running shoes - and stereotypes - short jewish lawyers, old guys with thick white moustaches and hawaiian shirt-work boot combos that live in whittier, neck tattoos. it's a learning experience. oh, and i've learned that untoasted bagels are probably the most evil things in existence and that eating one slathered in cream cheese (btw that only makes it worse) WILL result in throwing up. ew.

unrelated, but is it sad that buying a soft pack of camel filters with the original packaging made me inexplicably happy?

and unrelated to the above aside but slightly related to the one above it, on the way to jury duty yesterday i saw a man stick his hand and a basketball out of his sunroof to dribble the basketball on the rest of his roof. i have been seeing the best shit lately. everyday is christmas for my eyes.

edit at 1:52p: no one caressss but i just saw someone reading a roberto bolaño novel in public (or at all, really) for the first time. awesome.

edit at 2:19p: NOOOO some guy just recited that tired old winston churchill quote about democracy and then looked at me as if i was supposed to congratulate him. nah. WAIT PEOPLE PAID OTHER PEOPLE TO PERFORM THEIR MILITARY DUTY DURING THE CIVIL WAR?! ohmigawdddd ur brilliant

hangin' out, chillin'

okay so i have about three more hours in this place so i'm gonna post. apparently the rihanna-chris brown case is going on today and there are tons of paparazzi and local news celebrities (?) milling about the place. also i learned something about jury duty: waiting in to jury assembly room is akin to the moment right before a school assembly, when people are coming in and they're kind of restless and waiting for someone to speak. but whereas most assemblies are 30 minutes, an hour, tops, jury duty is basically seven hours of that moment suspended except you can listen to your ipod and text your friends without an administrator coming by and confiscating something. it's awful.

anyway last night was AWESOME. okay, not all of it was awesome but most of it was. i came the closest i've ever been to being hit by a car. i was two inches from the dude's car and that's after i jumped back. the most ridiculous part is that i instantly pounded on his car (i do this a lot when cars aren't paying attention while turning) and yelled "suck my dick!" at the top of my lungs. i still can't believe that of all the things to yell, it was that. ug. anyway i made it to ucla alive and met up with mara to give her drugs and candy - and by drugs i mean dayquil and by candy i mean some awesome stuff i bought at cost plus world market. we kicked it and then i went to kerchkoff grand salon to see mika miko and the mae shi. i get there, NO MORE WRISTBANDS. so i stood outside smoking cigarettes and listened to "gangster's paradise" (and ice cube's "it was a good day" which kind of pissed me off because it was delving into "white guys who know five rap songs" territory) courtesy of ucla radio. i start talking to a few people and they're both really nice, offering suggestions and downing rosé wine (bleh). then this guy walks up to me and leads to me to a staircase and fuck yes! i'm in. mika miko was great, as usual. one thing i noticed at the show was that everyone had great pit manners, probably the best i've seen. the mae shi starts, there's some religious tent revival shit going down, ryan climbs through a window and the bassist unwittingly (or wittingly?) strums his bass while it's on backwards. they put on a great show but i don't think i'll ever be able to shake the feeling that mae shi shows are low key religious events. i don't mean that in a "clapton is god" kind of way, but the energy and the chants and i don't know, everything, smacks of religious devotion. anyway after that we got free soda and went to mara's dorm to deface a "go green!" poster, roll on mara's bed and not eat nachos. then i went home.

i'm not doing it justice but i had an amazing time last night. yeah.

r.i.p. ryan's car

(obviously not his, it's clean)

THANK YOU LOS ANGELES COUNTY

for providing free wi-fi at the fine establishment that is the clara foltzridge (or something) courthouse. the only thing is that it doesn't allow you to browse facebook, twitter, or any "personal blogging website." however, they seemed have to overlooked blogger, which is weird because it's one of the biggest personal blogging websites, if not the biggest. anyway i have jury duty so expect lots of posts about me eating bagels, wanting to kill myself, etc.

paula deen is fat and crazy but mostly fat: a series

$ made a dish that included bacon grease and more butter than should be legally allowed
$ made crab mousse. CRAB MOUSSE. who the fuck decided that the taste of seafood and the texture of mousse were a good match?

assorted things:
$ mika miko + the mae shi 2nite
$ cost plus world market gift cards, saving lives
$ mothers in colored denim: NOT DOWN
$ i am in loveeee with this weather

fast food

this guy walked into in-n-out today, filled up a plastic bag with ice, muttered something in french, and left.

what

also i walked past burger king and a GIANT group of kids were watching some dudes have a dance battle in the parking lot. except it wasn't really a dance battle, just some black pseudo-skaters in brightly-colored jeans spinning and dropping it like its hot but not really.

also what

oh fuck this post is already chock full of information but i stumbled upon a last.fm group called "13 & allah."

'round midnight

1. there's this thing on the back of the trix box that's like, "find the ticket, win cash!" and despite this exclamation the picture of the $10,000 ticket for some reason led me to believe for a few seconds that you'd win $10,000 entirely in trix. and i was pissed. then i learned how to read.
2. i think "me, myself, and i" was playing during a club scene on fresh prince of bel-air, awesome

you know you can't roam without caesar

i HATE the new subway commercial. it's like subway high school musical which actually is a comparison i can't make as i've never seen any of the high school musicals not even a clip. i am living a lie.

apparently there's a gang in detroit called "the best friends" and i can't get over how fucking lame that sounds. when you've pissed them off do they not sit with you at lunch and like, take back the friendship bracelet they gave you? i bet it's made entirely of third graders.

OH GUYS i almost got hit by a fucking PERIWINKLE MIATA. speaking of lame that would be the worst way to die. what kills me is that periwinkle is not a factory color which means that that douchebag (or perhaps, the douchebag that owned it before him) went and got it painted that color. i can imagine the guy spraying the car laughing hysterically.

"we go to the movies and we laugh at different jokes..." it's the week of kanye. i'm watching his vh1 storytellers special and it's really good- a string arrangement of "flashing lights" is playing. fuck yeahhhh. and he's got this ducktail/mullet thing going on and a seriously 80s suit complete with white sneakers but of course it's great.

god i bet my best friends gang diss earlier this post is going to get me killed. but there's no way in hell i'd ever go to detroit, no matter how cold it is, so i think i'm good.

oh goddamn it kanye: "i get my quotes from movies 'cause i don't read." oh and "my greatest pain in life is knowing that i will never be able to see me perform."

groove is in the heart

i've decided against deleting the previous entry because, aside from some literary high-horsing, it's not that bad.

okay i'm going to take this time to be a total grandma: i love salad bars. i can be supremely indecisive and salad bars allow me to get a little bit of everything - eradicating the whole "should i get this? or this? or maybe this?" internal turmoil that goes on every time i go to a restaurant. the best salad bars: whole foods on lincoln blvd (SO MUCH STUFF. do you really need three olive bars? fuck yeah you do), and mrs. winston's green grocery (small but great quality, plus a sandwich bar so of course i'm down). alright, grandmaing over. or has it just begun? or have i always been a grandma?

answer: the last one, duh

also there's a boy that works at el pollo loco that is really cute in a ricky from american beauty kind of way except he's not creepy and probably doesn't spend his time taping plastic bags blowing in the wind and drug-dealing. or maybe he does deal drugs. i don't know how much el pollo loco pays. and speaking of american beauty, it's ten years old this year. crazy.

no, i don't have a gun

i am thinking about four things:
1. damien hirst's £111 million killing at sotheby's some months back;
2. "come as you are" by nirvana because kyle played it on guitar briefly and got it stuck in my head;
3. henry's beautifully written letter to rob;
4. the first season finale of skins and how lame the ending was.

a few days back, in the poetry section of barnes & noble, some girls were talking about how when they need something trashy to read after reading "serious literature" they read romance or vampire novels (!) and it brought me no small amount of joy when i realized that when i want to read something "trashy" i read bret easton ellis novels. seriously there's no excuse for reading twilight.

by the way i am kind of drunk which means that all of this will probably shame or annoy me in the morning and will thereby be deleted. so to those who catch it before then, enjoy it, for it is (probably) transient at best.