Can you remember what you did every year for New Year's? I think I have a pretty good memory for it:
2007 I went to Matt's brother's party and then Mara's house. I took the F train home at 6 AM.
2006 I had dinner at Anna's but left before the cops came to go to the party Charlie was having at his old apartment, and we went to Happy Endings afterwards and then Charlie blacked out and lost his cell phone in a cab and I took the 1 train home at 5 AM.
2005 I was sick, I had to fly to San Francisco to stay with my sister N. in the W San Francisco and as soon as I landed I found out that my grandmother had died. I had to start taking antibiotics the next day because the plane had caused a sinus infection.
2004 Mike came to Los Angeles to help me move to Santa Cruz, and then he got a ride back down to L.A. with my new housemate and my parents, brother and I went to Monterey and ate Italian food.
2003 I was going to San Francisco to visit Kelly but my car broke down on the Grapevine and my brother had to come pick me up in Valencia. He drove me back to Los Angeles, and we ate at the Poquito Mas in Studio City (which he thought was the only Poquito Mas -- it was on that day I told him it was a chain) and then he dropped me off at home and went to a party. I stayed home and watched a "Sex and the City" marathon.
2002 I finally passed my driving test that afternoon, and then I watched "Darren's Dance Grooves" with some of my Christian girl neighbors in Walnut Creek, and then we had a slumber party.
2001 For my first post-age 21 NYE, my sisters and I played Scrabble and went to see "O Brother Where Art Thou" at BAM. I slept over at N's house afterwards.
2000 Brian and I went to a party at Lesa and Josh's house, except Lesa and Josh were away, and Jeremy and Robby were housesitting. At the time we knew lots of people who had just moved to New York from Santa Fe and they were all there, being annoying arty southwesterners. Robby and I were worried that the world would end at midnight but when it didn't, he passed out in the closet. The party got out of bounds, aka it was a night of bad behavior and disillusionment.
1999 [I just remembered this] I was on a train, going from Chicago to San Francisco, with Brian. The train stopped for an hour in Denver and we walked through Historical Downtown Denver to find a wine store that would sell us some champagne. I remember being like, "I'll do the talking" because I was nervous that Brian would somehow louse up the whole deal and they'd ask us for ID if he got too involved. It worked out! Hmm... maybe that one was actually kind of magical.
Anyway, this year my mom is in the hospital and I have tons of work to do and it doesn't even feel wintery outside. But I'm convinced that New Year's Eve is not as downward spirally as it seems. I am flying to Buffalo on Sunday and then driving to Canada and I hope that there are more restaurants open in Toronto on New Year's Day than there were on Canadian Thanksgiving! But in case there aren't, I will be bringing Our Mutual Friend with me. Let me tell you, I'm engrossed, and I have 732 pages to go.
Friday, December 28, 2007
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Bros bros bros
On account of Christmas being canceled, Secret Santa was a bust this year, but my brother lives in Los Angeles so he'd already mailed his presents! To me! I hope his Secret Santa sent him something really good, because he got me the La Jetee/Sans Soleil Criterion DVD, a Maybelle Carter CD, and slippers. Don't worry though, even if Santa didn't come through for him, it's his birthday on the 27th and I got him a rad present of the Cassavetes Criterion box set and a mix CD! We are so alike, it's almost like we're related, you know?
Last night I went to Max Fish with my friend Andrew. Max Fish was packed, full of lots of dudes that Andrew is friends with and some girls that I am friends with and it was a pretty good scene especially considering it was Christmas, but I was a little bit bummed in general yesterday and it turned into one of those nights where time just passes by and you aren't sure what you were doing. Watching someone play Pirates of the Caribbean pinball? Talking about California, subway lines, love and squirrels?
Late in the night I put a bunch of songs on the jukebox, including this B-52s song "Strobe Light" that was one of my younger-years favorites. When the song came on Andrew was like, "I hate the B-52s" and some guy said, "the B-52s are kind of like the Cramps. If you have the Cramps, you don't need the B-52s." He was quiet for a minute and then he was like, "Actually, it's probably better that you like the B-52s. If I had a little sister, I wouldn't want her to listen to the Cramps."
Last night I went to Max Fish with my friend Andrew. Max Fish was packed, full of lots of dudes that Andrew is friends with and some girls that I am friends with and it was a pretty good scene especially considering it was Christmas, but I was a little bit bummed in general yesterday and it turned into one of those nights where time just passes by and you aren't sure what you were doing. Watching someone play Pirates of the Caribbean pinball? Talking about California, subway lines, love and squirrels?
Late in the night I put a bunch of songs on the jukebox, including this B-52s song "Strobe Light" that was one of my younger-years favorites. When the song came on Andrew was like, "I hate the B-52s" and some guy said, "the B-52s are kind of like the Cramps. If you have the Cramps, you don't need the B-52s." He was quiet for a minute and then he was like, "Actually, it's probably better that you like the B-52s. If I had a little sister, I wouldn't want her to listen to the Cramps."
Monday, December 24, 2007
Everyone will leave at exactly the same time
Days like this, Times Like These, all I want to do is get in my car and drive to the mall. Drive to the Grove, to be exact, and park on the roof and look at the 360 degree panorama of Los Angeles (that no one looks at because no one likes to park on the roof) and then go shopping until I feel bad about how much money I've spent instead of the really sad stuff.
I know it's easy to make fun of, but sometimes the plastic things are the only ones that work. I think it's the smells that calm me down: the rubber and aerosol and burnt towels of the chain gym I go to, the new-clothes and carpet of shopping. And the bright lights, and the boring music. The same everywhere, always what you expect.
Someone sent me one of those "quiz requests" on facebook, and the quiz was called "Things You Wish You Had More Of." I thought: sweaters, tights, hair conditioner, perfume, headphones for my iPod, earrings. It turned out to be about personal qualities, intangibles: beauty, fame, creativity, intelligence. I thought, maybe I am unusual because all I want are some new CDs. Printer ink. Liquid eyeliner, strapless bra, gel pens. I don't care about athleticism or friends or fame or intelligence, I just want to be alone with shelves of tomato sauce, racks of dresses, cases of flax oil supplements and boxes of ballet flats. The most intangible thing I want more of is conveniently-timed spin classes.
Today I went to Banana Republic and tried on all the party dresses. It was quiet, most people had finished shopping I guess, and I spent lots of money. I went to Whole Foods afterwards. They were closing at 6:00, but when it got to be 6:00 there were still dozens of people shopping, including me. Whole Foods employees started walking around saying, "You better get in line, or the registers will be closed!" So I hurried and got on line, even though I was having trouble deciding on some vitamins. But then there was an announcement over the loudspeaker: We had 20 minutes more to shop. I felt cheated! I will just say it, because I'm in favor of honesty: it was hard for me to care about the Whole Foods employees who wanted to get home to their families.
My sister N. called me while I was on line. We went to see "Juno" last night, after our family dinner plan got canceled. She was just checking to see if I was okay, she said. She's going to visit her mom in the morning but she invited me over tonight to listen to the Rihanna CD she just bought.
I came home and rushed to the gym, but they were closing even earlier than they had claimed they'd be closing, so I only had like 10 minutes to work out. Rip-off! When I left, the girl at the front desk said "Happy holidays!" I think that's such a weird thing to say on Christmas Eve, isn't it? Like, obviously it's trying to be inclusive of people who don't celebrate Christmas, but if you don't celebrate Christmas, why would you care?
I know it's easy to make fun of, but sometimes the plastic things are the only ones that work. I think it's the smells that calm me down: the rubber and aerosol and burnt towels of the chain gym I go to, the new-clothes and carpet of shopping. And the bright lights, and the boring music. The same everywhere, always what you expect.
Someone sent me one of those "quiz requests" on facebook, and the quiz was called "Things You Wish You Had More Of." I thought: sweaters, tights, hair conditioner, perfume, headphones for my iPod, earrings. It turned out to be about personal qualities, intangibles: beauty, fame, creativity, intelligence. I thought, maybe I am unusual because all I want are some new CDs. Printer ink. Liquid eyeliner, strapless bra, gel pens. I don't care about athleticism or friends or fame or intelligence, I just want to be alone with shelves of tomato sauce, racks of dresses, cases of flax oil supplements and boxes of ballet flats. The most intangible thing I want more of is conveniently-timed spin classes.
Today I went to Banana Republic and tried on all the party dresses. It was quiet, most people had finished shopping I guess, and I spent lots of money. I went to Whole Foods afterwards. They were closing at 6:00, but when it got to be 6:00 there were still dozens of people shopping, including me. Whole Foods employees started walking around saying, "You better get in line, or the registers will be closed!" So I hurried and got on line, even though I was having trouble deciding on some vitamins. But then there was an announcement over the loudspeaker: We had 20 minutes more to shop. I felt cheated! I will just say it, because I'm in favor of honesty: it was hard for me to care about the Whole Foods employees who wanted to get home to their families.
My sister N. called me while I was on line. We went to see "Juno" last night, after our family dinner plan got canceled. She was just checking to see if I was okay, she said. She's going to visit her mom in the morning but she invited me over tonight to listen to the Rihanna CD she just bought.
I came home and rushed to the gym, but they were closing even earlier than they had claimed they'd be closing, so I only had like 10 minutes to work out. Rip-off! When I left, the girl at the front desk said "Happy holidays!" I think that's such a weird thing to say on Christmas Eve, isn't it? Like, obviously it's trying to be inclusive of people who don't celebrate Christmas, but if you don't celebrate Christmas, why would you care?
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
The secret clue
I am still kind of sick but this morning I feel nauseous for a whole different reason: a few years ago I was asked to submit a piece of writing for publication in NYC-based magazine that mostly publishes visual art -- you know, photos, drawings, and 2-d installations -- but was planning a small fiction section. Getting asked to submit to something is kind of an ego boost, but it's also freaky: if my story turns out to be some kind of monstrous little creature, will they feel (more) obligated to accept it because they feel responsible for its existence? Is this just paving the way for some day in the future when I won't care if I'm making terrible work, because my ego will be so big?
So, I wrote the story and sent it in. Two years ago. Then, the magazine started to have some publication delays, which was frustrating at first but then became a relief. I knew, when I was writing the story, that it was inspired by autobiography -- someone who read it described it as auto-fan fiction, which has a narcissistic suggestion that I like -- but not until later did it occur to me that among the people who'd be receiving free copies of this magazine in the mail when it eventually came out were the ex-friend and ex-boyfriend who were the (veiled, thinly) inspirations for the story itself -- not in some lame and naive character-to-person correspondence way, just in terms of the story itself.
I guess I get so into the mode of thinking that everything can be inspiration for writing that I forget the danger: when other people recognize themselves, they also recognize me and realize something about me, about the things I hold on to, even about the things I never bothered to tell them.
Anyway, as much as I like to pretend I am, I'm not narcissistic enough to think anyone would be sure to notice my short story in a 300+ page magazine, or even 100% definitely recognize themselves in my writing -- I mean, people always just think what they want to anyway, right? I guess all I hope is that my story is good and that there are no weird editorial changes and that the community is not scandalized. I guess I will open this when I get home tonight.
So, I wrote the story and sent it in. Two years ago. Then, the magazine started to have some publication delays, which was frustrating at first but then became a relief. I knew, when I was writing the story, that it was inspired by autobiography -- someone who read it described it as auto-fan fiction, which has a narcissistic suggestion that I like -- but not until later did it occur to me that among the people who'd be receiving free copies of this magazine in the mail when it eventually came out were the ex-friend and ex-boyfriend who were the (veiled, thinly) inspirations for the story itself -- not in some lame and naive character-to-person correspondence way, just in terms of the story itself.
I guess I get so into the mode of thinking that everything can be inspiration for writing that I forget the danger: when other people recognize themselves, they also recognize me and realize something about me, about the things I hold on to, even about the things I never bothered to tell them.
Anyway, as much as I like to pretend I am, I'm not narcissistic enough to think anyone would be sure to notice my short story in a 300+ page magazine, or even 100% definitely recognize themselves in my writing -- I mean, people always just think what they want to anyway, right? I guess all I hope is that my story is good and that there are no weird editorial changes and that the community is not scandalized. I guess I will open this when I get home tonight.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Causes/effect
On Thursday I went to a terrible class at the gym called "Weigh Hard Cardio." It was hard and boring. Then I took Mike, Belinda, and Belinda's fiance Aengus to that Pinter play "The Homecoming" -- a present from my dad. During the break Mike saw a guy helping his blind friend pee. I mean, he saw their feet in the stall. He said it was "intimate and nice." Creepy! Then Aengus heard someone say, "When I saw 'Lars and the Real Girl,' I thought: MUSICAL."
On Friday we moved a bunch of stuff to my new apartment and then I took a yoga class. I couldn't really sleep after that, so I stayed up all night packing. On Saturday I went to the library and graded papers at the coffee shop that uses sour cream as salad dressing. For some reason the only food they had was asparagus soup and banana bread, so that's all I ate on Saturday. I stayed up all night on Saturday again.
On Sunday we moved the rest of my stuff and I slipped in the sleet and fell on my butt on the stairs. Then I went uptown to meet the guy who's subletting my apartment. He seemed really lonely -- he is an 30-something who just moved here for school from California, and he seems to both (a) not know anyone and (b) not be capable of entertaining himself. I had told him I was in school and after about a half an hour of awkward "when can I leave" small talk, he was like, "wait, are you in graduate school?" I guess it's flattering, but I sometimes get annoyed when people think I'm an undergraduate! I mean, I do drink lots of water, but I don't think I look that young. (I guess it's lucky that my subletter thinks I'm adorable though -- hopefully this means he won't mind being exploited! Just kidding.)
I came home and made the bed (well, mattress -- I'm not getting my bed frame delivered til later in the week), finished grading all the Film Theory papers and exams, because we had a grading meeting scheduled for this morning, and then I fell asleep surrounded by boxes. This morning I woke up feeling like that corpse in Eastern Promises that washes up on the shore of the Thames. Seriously, I almost had to sit down on the floor of the subway, and then when I got off the subway, I had to sit on a bench on the platform for a few minutes before I could walk to the meeting.
The meeting was good -- the professor just got back from an awards show in China, and showed us tons of pictures -- and then afterwards I went to the Target right by my new place to buy toilet paper and slippers. I was still feeling pretty gross, so I sat down in the "Target Cafe" (which is also a Starbucks) for a little while after I shopped. After a minute, I realized something: everyone around me was retarded. Literally, Target was full of retarded adults.
I walked home and it was so windy. I swear, I have never felt such winds. I got home, put on my slippers, and then fell asleep for the next five hours. When I woke up I was all fevery and confused, and I felt like my entire body was going to fall off. Liza offered to come over and punch me in the face, but I declined because I couldn't imagine getting up to buzz her in. Finally, like an hour later, I forced myself to get up and take some advil and sudafed. I also found vitamin C and some forgotten zinc lozenges in one of my boxes, and then I started to feel better and one of my housemates came home and we watched two hours of "Scrubs" and I ordered Chinese noodles. Now I'm going to sleep.
On Friday we moved a bunch of stuff to my new apartment and then I took a yoga class. I couldn't really sleep after that, so I stayed up all night packing. On Saturday I went to the library and graded papers at the coffee shop that uses sour cream as salad dressing. For some reason the only food they had was asparagus soup and banana bread, so that's all I ate on Saturday. I stayed up all night on Saturday again.
On Sunday we moved the rest of my stuff and I slipped in the sleet and fell on my butt on the stairs. Then I went uptown to meet the guy who's subletting my apartment. He seemed really lonely -- he is an 30-something who just moved here for school from California, and he seems to both (a) not know anyone and (b) not be capable of entertaining himself. I had told him I was in school and after about a half an hour of awkward "when can I leave" small talk, he was like, "wait, are you in graduate school?" I guess it's flattering, but I sometimes get annoyed when people think I'm an undergraduate! I mean, I do drink lots of water, but I don't think I look that young. (I guess it's lucky that my subletter thinks I'm adorable though -- hopefully this means he won't mind being exploited! Just kidding.)
I came home and made the bed (well, mattress -- I'm not getting my bed frame delivered til later in the week), finished grading all the Film Theory papers and exams, because we had a grading meeting scheduled for this morning, and then I fell asleep surrounded by boxes. This morning I woke up feeling like that corpse in Eastern Promises that washes up on the shore of the Thames. Seriously, I almost had to sit down on the floor of the subway, and then when I got off the subway, I had to sit on a bench on the platform for a few minutes before I could walk to the meeting.
The meeting was good -- the professor just got back from an awards show in China, and showed us tons of pictures -- and then afterwards I went to the Target right by my new place to buy toilet paper and slippers. I was still feeling pretty gross, so I sat down in the "Target Cafe" (which is also a Starbucks) for a little while after I shopped. After a minute, I realized something: everyone around me was retarded. Literally, Target was full of retarded adults.
I walked home and it was so windy. I swear, I have never felt such winds. I got home, put on my slippers, and then fell asleep for the next five hours. When I woke up I was all fevery and confused, and I felt like my entire body was going to fall off. Liza offered to come over and punch me in the face, but I declined because I couldn't imagine getting up to buzz her in. Finally, like an hour later, I forced myself to get up and take some advil and sudafed. I also found vitamin C and some forgotten zinc lozenges in one of my boxes, and then I started to feel better and one of my housemates came home and we watched two hours of "Scrubs" and I ordered Chinese noodles. Now I'm going to sleep.
Friday, December 14, 2007
Woman of mysteries?
I had a sexy dream about Elisa from "Project Runway." Let me tell you, she was relentless.
I totally blame Olivia for this -- not in a lesbian way though, don't worry, pals!
I totally blame Olivia for this -- not in a lesbian way though, don't worry, pals!
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
If I'm paying for a llama I want to see that llama.
Today was the last day of classes for the semester -- now I just have to finish some projects and grade a bunch of other ones. This leaves me time to think about... the holidays.
My family is a constant source of Christmas drama. We used to play Scrabble, but then one time my brother told my sister N. that she was taking too long to make a play, she thought he was antagonizing her and stormed off, and they didn't talk for almost a year!
We can't really have conversations about products or food, because my sister E. is active in the politics of veganism and boycotting China and she gets worked up.
My mother got tired of cooking every year, so she started getting dinner catered. Then last year N. decided she wanted to host, and she freaked out that she hadn't made enough food, decided to make brussels sprouts and burnt them -- three fire trucks came! My mother had to finish cooking.
Everyone used to get really creative about wrapping presents, until we started doing Secret Santa because E. wanted more money left over to donate to various causes (homeless cats, farm families in Peru, etc.). But then last year Secret Santa got kind of embarrassingly elaborate (for example, I got art), and that was the end of that.
This year we have a $30 present limit and we're eating at a restaurant in Brooklyn. If this was a t.v. show, my parents would get some cute foster children.
Wait, here's a good story: yesterday I was driving to Brooklyn with my dad. I was like, "I've never lived in Brooklyn before." He said, "Well, how does that make you feel?" I said, "I don't know. I think I just like saying 'I've never lived in Brooklyn before.'" Then we saw a big Grinch balloon hanging from someone's window. My dad said, "What is that, an alligator dressed as Santa?"
My family is a constant source of Christmas drama. We used to play Scrabble, but then one time my brother told my sister N. that she was taking too long to make a play, she thought he was antagonizing her and stormed off, and they didn't talk for almost a year!
We can't really have conversations about products or food, because my sister E. is active in the politics of veganism and boycotting China and she gets worked up.
My mother got tired of cooking every year, so she started getting dinner catered. Then last year N. decided she wanted to host, and she freaked out that she hadn't made enough food, decided to make brussels sprouts and burnt them -- three fire trucks came! My mother had to finish cooking.
Everyone used to get really creative about wrapping presents, until we started doing Secret Santa because E. wanted more money left over to donate to various causes (homeless cats, farm families in Peru, etc.). But then last year Secret Santa got kind of embarrassingly elaborate (for example, I got art), and that was the end of that.
This year we have a $30 present limit and we're eating at a restaurant in Brooklyn. If this was a t.v. show, my parents would get some cute foster children.
Wait, here's a good story: yesterday I was driving to Brooklyn with my dad. I was like, "I've never lived in Brooklyn before." He said, "Well, how does that make you feel?" I said, "I don't know. I think I just like saying 'I've never lived in Brooklyn before.'" Then we saw a big Grinch balloon hanging from someone's window. My dad said, "What is that, an alligator dressed as Santa?"
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Things to do in New York when you wish you were in Miami
I saw Atonement yesterday and it was good. Keira Knightley, she sure is a shiner. A real shiner. And that Dunkirk Beach long tracking shot scene? Pretty nice, pretty pretty nice. Whoa.
Here is what else I am looking forward to this weekend:
In other news, I am super creeped-out by the trailers for Awake, and I don't understand how the same Chia Pet commercials that have been airing every Christmas since Newmark & Lewis and Nobody Beats the Wiz and D'Agostino's had the best jingles on TV (AKA in 1987) could still exist. Someone should just leave the master tape in the back of a cab!
Here is what else I am looking forward to this weekend:
- The Golden Compass !!!
- Bread & Puppet Circus's The Divine Reality Comedy
- Latkes with my parents
- Juno
- Sleeping in my new apartment
- Maybe Margot at the Wedding -- everyone seems to hate it but I bet I will "relate"
- More snow
In other news, I am super creeped-out by the trailers for Awake, and I don't understand how the same Chia Pet commercials that have been airing every Christmas since Newmark & Lewis and Nobody Beats the Wiz and D'Agostino's had the best jingles on TV (AKA in 1987) could still exist. Someone should just leave the master tape in the back of a cab!
Saturday, December 1, 2007
Possible cautionaries
I'm declaring a hiatus on fun until I finish this paper draft I'm supposed to be working on and get rid of at least 25 pounds (combined) of clothing, accessories and papers.
Last night when I came home at 5:15 AM, the doorman on duty told me he's taking pictures of "everybody" in front of our lobby Christmas tree and asked if he could take mine. I have found him sketchy ever since he invited me to a Halloween party, and I'm worried that he thinks I have some crazy lifestyle since I regularly come home super-late, but I didn't want to be rude so I said yes. Am I going to get sold into white slavery now?? I was wearing a giant ski parka with a furry hood, so hopefully there just won't be any buyers.
Today I was working at the library and when it closed I left to eat a salad at Chipotle. These girls who were sitting at the table next to me were having a whole conversation about Serena van der Woodsen and cupcakes from Sprinkles. I don't know either. One of them was on line right behind me as I ordered my salad, so I knew she was eating a burrito with chicken, extra rice, sour cream and guacamole and that she didn't say "please" or "thank you."
After I left Chipotle, I bought some celery and watermelon and came home.
Last night when I came home at 5:15 AM, the doorman on duty told me he's taking pictures of "everybody" in front of our lobby Christmas tree and asked if he could take mine. I have found him sketchy ever since he invited me to a Halloween party, and I'm worried that he thinks I have some crazy lifestyle since I regularly come home super-late, but I didn't want to be rude so I said yes. Am I going to get sold into white slavery now?? I was wearing a giant ski parka with a furry hood, so hopefully there just won't be any buyers.
Today I was working at the library and when it closed I left to eat a salad at Chipotle. These girls who were sitting at the table next to me were having a whole conversation about Serena van der Woodsen and cupcakes from Sprinkles. I don't know either. One of them was on line right behind me as I ordered my salad, so I knew she was eating a burrito with chicken, extra rice, sour cream and guacamole and that she didn't say "please" or "thank you."
After I left Chipotle, I bought some celery and watermelon and came home.
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