this week: radars to the sky, the happy hollows, & low vs. diamond! for free?!
rachel, what do you think?
Tuesday, February 27
flirting with photoshop
fresh from the kexp live show, the airborne toxic event begins their monday night residency at the echo!
this week: radars to the sky, the happy hollows, & low vs. diamond! for free?!
rachel, what do you think?
this week: radars to the sky, the happy hollows, & low vs. diamond! for free?!
rachel, what do you think?
aren't you glad you joined us, ginny?
this is how seamus and i ended up singing abbey road at ten am sunday morning, heads cast out of julian's tenth floor loft window, out in that patently clear los angeles morning light:
on saturday evening our dear friends mila and suzy q celebrated their birthday at the redwood bar and grill downtown. three bands played: franklin ex, wake up incinerate, and go betty go. one deejay spun: dj chrimp. [or at least that is what i believe his name to be. all i remember is someone telling me his millieu was supposed to be a mixture of early punk, art rock, and funk. i can deal with that.] when we arrived with the dazzling leutholds - julian and allegra, near apollo and diana - the bar was crowded and loud. we grabbed drinks and made the rounds, finally settling upon the smoking patio to take our usual catalogue of flickr photos.
when the majority of the partygoers had migrated outside, we caravanned to julian's apartment at the old gas co. building.
wait, i got ahead of myself.
as we were walking to our cars, we passed a group of young bucks loitering in front of the typical "hollywood via regentrified downtown" bar nextdoor. one of them, demure in stature, said hello to julian as if he knew him. julian replied hello and continued to walk past.
then someone - shelley? - said: "do you realize that was david faustino?"
me: "what? bud bundy?"
all: "yes."
me: "david faustino is coming to the afterparty."
[note: dialogue not to scale]
yes, bud bundy did come to juilan's apartment. he brought his posse, too, including corin nemec or, parker lewis who seemingly can't lose. something happened to my childhood that night. it shifted. bud bundy was standing next to me, deep in my shadow, talking about sex and drugs. mr. nemec was flirting with rastafarianism and playing it cool.
they ended up leaving an hour into the party. we simply did not have the types of illicit commestibles for which they were honed. bud gave me a hug, handed out his business card, and walked out of our lives perhaps for ever?
with julian, ginny, and allegra falling asleep like dominoes, seamus and i escorted the night out.
and so, as the sun came up, after drinks were spilled and cigarettes tossed out the window, seamus and i ended up singing abbey road at ten am sunday morning, heads cast out of julian's tenth floor loft window, out in that patently clear los angeles morning light.
on saturday evening our dear friends mila and suzy q celebrated their birthday at the redwood bar and grill downtown. three bands played: franklin ex, wake up incinerate, and go betty go. one deejay spun: dj chrimp. [or at least that is what i believe his name to be. all i remember is someone telling me his millieu was supposed to be a mixture of early punk, art rock, and funk. i can deal with that.] when we arrived with the dazzling leutholds - julian and allegra, near apollo and diana - the bar was crowded and loud. we grabbed drinks and made the rounds, finally settling upon the smoking patio to take our usual catalogue of flickr photos.
when the majority of the partygoers had migrated outside, we caravanned to julian's apartment at the old gas co. building.
wait, i got ahead of myself.
as we were walking to our cars, we passed a group of young bucks loitering in front of the typical "hollywood via regentrified downtown" bar nextdoor. one of them, demure in stature, said hello to julian as if he knew him. julian replied hello and continued to walk past.
then someone - shelley? - said: "do you realize that was david faustino?"
me: "what? bud bundy?"
all: "yes."
me: "david faustino is coming to the afterparty."
[note: dialogue not to scale]
yes, bud bundy did come to juilan's apartment. he brought his posse, too, including corin nemec or, parker lewis who seemingly can't lose. something happened to my childhood that night. it shifted. bud bundy was standing next to me, deep in my shadow, talking about sex and drugs. mr. nemec was flirting with rastafarianism and playing it cool.
they ended up leaving an hour into the party. we simply did not have the types of illicit commestibles for which they were honed. bud gave me a hug, handed out his business card, and walked out of our lives perhaps for ever?
with julian, ginny, and allegra falling asleep like dominoes, seamus and i escorted the night out.
and so, as the sun came up, after drinks were spilled and cigarettes tossed out the window, seamus and i ended up singing abbey road at ten am sunday morning, heads cast out of julian's tenth floor loft window, out in that patently clear los angeles morning light.
Thursday, February 22
i love monty python
today is a good day. work is wonderful, i am over-dressed, & i am in love with life.
this snippet is the icing.
who wants to go dancing tonight? my feet, they are a' itchin'.
Tuesday, February 20
i am a negative creep
this may sound cheesy, but you can kiss my lily white:
i cannot believe kurt cobain would've been forty. forty? as in, forty?
really?
how old does that make me?
...
shit.
well, what can be said about this?
for me, a lot. it is a big deal. as silly as this may read: i learned how to play guitar because of nirvana. fourteen & picking up a friend's accoustic to hammer-mimic smells like teen spirit & a bit of bleach.
it was sonically different from anything i had heard - and before you say anything, i simultaneously listened to: en vogue, judas priest, kiss, alice cooper, jesus christ superstar & nwa - so, i wasn't totally in the oft imagined "midwest-dark".
it changed things. everywhere.
anyways, i suppose i should get back to the point - kurt cobain being forty. it is hard to imagine what would have happened to him otherwise. what would have happened to the band? their sound? would they have had to get piercings like metallica? or, would they have self-altered as frequently as wire?
what if?
whatever.
nevermind.
i cannot believe kurt cobain would've been forty. forty? as in, forty?
really?
how old does that make me?
...
shit.
well, what can be said about this?
for me, a lot. it is a big deal. as silly as this may read: i learned how to play guitar because of nirvana. fourteen & picking up a friend's accoustic to hammer-mimic smells like teen spirit & a bit of bleach.
it was sonically different from anything i had heard - and before you say anything, i simultaneously listened to: en vogue, judas priest, kiss, alice cooper, jesus christ superstar & nwa - so, i wasn't totally in the oft imagined "midwest-dark".
it changed things. everywhere.
anyways, i suppose i should get back to the point - kurt cobain being forty. it is hard to imagine what would have happened to him otherwise. what would have happened to the band? their sound? would they have had to get piercings like metallica? or, would they have self-altered as frequently as wire?
what if?
whatever.
nevermind.
Monday, February 19
Sunday, February 18
sorry, tiffany, your dog has died
before i officially woke this morning, i was having the most sensational dream!
tiffany of kidviskous fame & i were hanging out at her apartment. she had locked herself in the bathroom. we were rolling. it was her birthday or mine, i can't remember which and we were shitcanned high.
she's screaming in the bathroom & freaking out. something about her dog.
i bang on the door & finally it opens to reveal tiffany, neck thick with necklaces. she has 200 of her necklaces on and is covered in glitter. she pointed to the toilet and said that she had flushed her dog down by accident. dream dog was some poof of white, a furry marshmallow. something yappy.
& then i woke.
you know, those mixed drinks at two a.m. really serve you well.
tiffany of kidviskous fame & i were hanging out at her apartment. she had locked herself in the bathroom. we were rolling. it was her birthday or mine, i can't remember which and we were shitcanned high.
she's screaming in the bathroom & freaking out. something about her dog.
i bang on the door & finally it opens to reveal tiffany, neck thick with necklaces. she has 200 of her necklaces on and is covered in glitter. she pointed to the toilet and said that she had flushed her dog down by accident. dream dog was some poof of white, a furry marshmallow. something yappy.
& then i woke.
you know, those mixed drinks at two a.m. really serve you well.
Thursday, February 15
in the grand tradition of non sequiturs
after reading earthtorachel's post on valentine's day, i thought i would mention mine.
the video above has nothing to do with it, really - i just had to post it as i laughed like an asshole when i watched it.
on the eve of lupercalia & the feast day of st. valentine my husband & i were drinking a few beers. once he noticed i was a little tipsy, he told me that he had innocently misplaced his wedding ring. i wasn't even the slighly bit mad as i could read his expression & it claimed absolute contrition. he was quite possibly the sweetest thing i have ever seen in that instant. seamus was worried that he had ruined our first valentine's day as a married couple. [!!!] that means: i love my husband.
the next day at work he searched all over, later finding it on the package weighing scale & thus, saving the day!
we celebrated with a baby cheese pizza from pink elephant & a bottle of pinot noir. this life, this life is good.
& that was my st. valentine's day. i curtsey.
Monday, February 12
researching the vena cava
oh, this weekend was a full one.
friday was my last day at the dragon. it is finished. i maintained my composure & was met with little resistance. i have yet to hear from my old boss - somehow i am not surprised. though this sounds cheesy, my melancholy while dimming the lights upon close was real. i will miss working with books. however i know i made the good move.
[the new job is great, by the way. will write more about it later - thomorrow?]
the radars to the sky / thailand / the hard to get ep release show was at el cid on friday. thanks to everyone who showed - it was crowded! thailand played a solid set as ever & after andrew recovered his guitar from a bum downtown, radars conquered the stage, too. the buzz band reviewer for the times was there. he pogos quite nicely. i also had the chance to meet joe from radio free silverlake who is great & laughed at my plot for kinky wizards.
on saturday we went to lisa g & simon's black & red party. to celebrate, i bought a flapper dress from iguana vintage on hollywood blvd. i paired it with gloves, a cigarette holder, & a communist pin on my tweed jacket. it was ncie having the chance to catch up with everyone. seamus & i spent most of the evening with some excellent people, chatting & debating, rocking out to led zeppelin, & drinking keystone light by sunrise.
oh, i just remembered the after party the drunk 19 year old who picked a fight with seamus. you should ask him about it.
now, i am exhausted. to bed with me as i have another new, long day as a writer's researcher.
Friday, February 9
ch-ch-changes or, how i learned to love the bomb
the big news is: i got a new job.
yes, i am leaving the bookstore. sadly, i need more money & emotional stability within the work place.
i will miss working there greatly. i know that i am good with books. i foresee the store doing very well in the future. however the timing is not right. i suppose the cheese that applies to intimate relationships applies to business ones, too.
that said, i have recently been hired as a writer's researcher / assistant on a buzz television show. this is a wholly new realm of work for me, but i am excited. i needed this. challenge is a large part of inspiration & lord knows i have been as creative as a louse. here is to all things unexpected & wonderful!
so - that is it.
NO: i am not pregnant; i have not won the lottery; i did not release a sex tape; we are not moving to france, though we will one day.
all good guesses, though.
thank you so very much for looking out for me, ms. karin. you were the impetus!
yes, i am leaving the bookstore. sadly, i need more money & emotional stability within the work place.
i will miss working there greatly. i know that i am good with books. i foresee the store doing very well in the future. however the timing is not right. i suppose the cheese that applies to intimate relationships applies to business ones, too.
that said, i have recently been hired as a writer's researcher / assistant on a buzz television show. this is a wholly new realm of work for me, but i am excited. i needed this. challenge is a large part of inspiration & lord knows i have been as creative as a louse. here is to all things unexpected & wonderful!
so - that is it.
NO: i am not pregnant; i have not won the lottery; i did not release a sex tape; we are not moving to france, though we will one day.
all good guesses, though.
thank you so very much for looking out for me, ms. karin. you were the impetus!
Tuesday, February 6
a veritable list rodeo
things i did today:
read choke by chuck paluihnik
drank at least six cups of coffee
chased said coffee with two amstel lights
smoked a cigarette - menthol
thought about a professional proposition
redyed & polished a first edition oxford english dictionary
researched jean cocteau
drank three liters of water
peed seventy-five times
thought of my grandparents
loved
things i need to do before midnight:
brush my teeth
trim my toenails - SLOTH-WOMAN!
watch the weather report
finish my beer
kiss my husband
wash my face
plan my day
smoke another fag?
things i like to list:
silly imaginary band names
medieval dates
reasons why i hate dan brown
reasons why the italian renaissance sucks
my theories on lost
jorge luis borges' qualities
victor pelevin's, too
read choke by chuck paluihnik
drank at least six cups of coffee
chased said coffee with two amstel lights
smoked a cigarette - menthol
thought about a professional proposition
redyed & polished a first edition oxford english dictionary
researched jean cocteau
drank three liters of water
peed seventy-five times
thought of my grandparents
loved
things i need to do before midnight:
brush my teeth
trim my toenails - SLOTH-WOMAN!
watch the weather report
finish my beer
kiss my husband
wash my face
plan my day
smoke another fag?
things i like to list:
silly imaginary band names
medieval dates
reasons why i hate dan brown
reasons why the italian renaissance sucks
my theories on lost
jorge luis borges' qualities
victor pelevin's, too
Monday, February 5
ode to pinkberry
sweet jesus, you delicious, slightly sour yogurt!
why must you tempt with your tang?
much like this girl i knew in highschool,
who tried to get me to don a wang.
i finally had it. small plain yogurt with fresh raspberries.
goodbye cocaine, hello tasty.
why must you tempt with your tang?
much like this girl i knew in highschool,
who tried to get me to don a wang.
i finally had it. small plain yogurt with fresh raspberries.
goodbye cocaine, hello tasty.
i am a grizzly in bed
weekends are for lovers.
after the psycho drama at work this week - peter quit! - & general money woes, i somehow managed to get the ENTIRE weekend off & enjoy quality time with my wonderful husband. sweet jesus. perhaps i haven't been so forthcoming with the fact that i work all the time? no joke. sixty hours a week. mondays off. it is insanely frustrating, spirit crushing, & insulting. why don't i quit, you ask? oh, how i wish i were independently wealthy! wouldn't that be a greasy feather in my hat? sadly, in this overtly consumerist society, my masters in medieval history is as good as confederate scrip.
so, where was i?
friday: i met my man at the bus stop, sunset & western. though i have no glasses, i can tell his shadowy figure by the signature gait. "oh, that is most certainly seamus." we laugh & smile, board the bus to the echo. our friend mikel's band - the airborne toxic event - played with the deadly syndrome & another local band. both named were tight. deadly syndrome singer has a preened falsetto that pays tribute to jeff buckley; they also have an accordion player. nice evening. heffenweizen & lemons.
saturday: woke in the early morning light & lounged in bed. seamus & i walked through los feliz, stopping in stores, holding hands. he bought the shirt from y-que that reads: "pluto: never forget". we petit-dejeunered at le figaro on vermont: cheese plate with walnut & apricot bread; a parmentier of garlic mashed potatoes, sauteed spinach, and mushrooms!; two glasses of vacqueyras.
in search of a haircut we went to rudy's. of course, the wait was long so we just sat there and enjoyed fugazi's repeater. it was lovely to be together in the afternoon.
last night we went to our friend jenny's miami vice birthday party at mj higgins. i came as miss conduct & wore a velvet leopard print mini dress, black pumps, red lips, & big hair. seamus donned a lovely pink collared shit and paired it with a black blazer & pants. he looks wonderful in pink; violet, too. i participated in the pageant & threw a handful of flour into the hair, spinning in my faux-coke storm. i was winona ryder dancing in a sea of nicaraguan snowflakes. pictures, soon.
today: after awaking in the late morning, seamus & i went down to safari sam's for a beer & the game on a jumbo-tron. we realized that we were not in the mood to be in public and returned home. much snackiness ensued. veggie corndogs & amstel light = happiness.
also, poor zz manked in her own house today after being accidentally denied access to the litter box. manky cat!
now: i am making good on my self-promised increase in post production. so!
after the psycho drama at work this week - peter quit! - & general money woes, i somehow managed to get the ENTIRE weekend off & enjoy quality time with my wonderful husband. sweet jesus. perhaps i haven't been so forthcoming with the fact that i work all the time? no joke. sixty hours a week. mondays off. it is insanely frustrating, spirit crushing, & insulting. why don't i quit, you ask? oh, how i wish i were independently wealthy! wouldn't that be a greasy feather in my hat? sadly, in this overtly consumerist society, my masters in medieval history is as good as confederate scrip.
so, where was i?
friday: i met my man at the bus stop, sunset & western. though i have no glasses, i can tell his shadowy figure by the signature gait. "oh, that is most certainly seamus." we laugh & smile, board the bus to the echo. our friend mikel's band - the airborne toxic event - played with the deadly syndrome & another local band. both named were tight. deadly syndrome singer has a preened falsetto that pays tribute to jeff buckley; they also have an accordion player. nice evening. heffenweizen & lemons.
saturday: woke in the early morning light & lounged in bed. seamus & i walked through los feliz, stopping in stores, holding hands. he bought the shirt from y-que that reads: "pluto: never forget". we petit-dejeunered at le figaro on vermont: cheese plate with walnut & apricot bread; a parmentier of garlic mashed potatoes, sauteed spinach, and mushrooms!; two glasses of vacqueyras.
in search of a haircut we went to rudy's. of course, the wait was long so we just sat there and enjoyed fugazi's repeater. it was lovely to be together in the afternoon.
last night we went to our friend jenny's miami vice birthday party at mj higgins. i came as miss conduct & wore a velvet leopard print mini dress, black pumps, red lips, & big hair. seamus donned a lovely pink collared shit and paired it with a black blazer & pants. he looks wonderful in pink; violet, too. i participated in the pageant & threw a handful of flour into the hair, spinning in my faux-coke storm. i was winona ryder dancing in a sea of nicaraguan snowflakes. pictures, soon.
today: after awaking in the late morning, seamus & i went down to safari sam's for a beer & the game on a jumbo-tron. we realized that we were not in the mood to be in public and returned home. much snackiness ensued. veggie corndogs & amstel light = happiness.
also, poor zz manked in her own house today after being accidentally denied access to the litter box. manky cat!
now: i am making good on my self-promised increase in post production. so!
Friday, February 2
it would be wonderful of you
after receiving a lovely write up in a few music blogs, radars to the sky will be playing their ep release show at el cid. come one, come all. drink & dance. show me what you are made of.
&, if you have nothing to do this evening - you should come down to the echo to see our friends the airborne toxic event. catch a glimpse before they explode.
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