flamelikeme

jumping ship

2009-03-08T23:58:00.000-07:00

i've moved to prettier waters, y'all.

flamelikeme.tumblr.com

s0rree blogger! tumblr hath tempted me too greatly. and i didn't even lose any of my posts, thanks to some amazing internet dude and his amazing javascript jamalamadingdong tool! whee!

i hope you all will follow me on my tumblr journey. keeses.

I trust you, I trust you more than anyone I've ever met

2009-03-08T12:35:00.000-07:00

It was a Czech New Wave weekend: Milos Forman's Firemen's Ball on Friday nite and Loves of a Blonde last night at my new favorite theater in the world (okay, maybe still after Chicago's Music Box): The Beverly. It was a wonderful double bill, like spending 4 hours with my goofy Czech relatives. One of them was a dead ringer for my great-uncle Fred, whose frothy mustache, kind demeanor, and blind blue eyes are among my strongest childhood memories.

These films portray their sweet, unassuming characters so very tenderly, with such love and affection; Forman is really quite masterful. The chaos of Firemen's Ball versus the quietude of Loves of a Blonde was such a perfect pairing, now I must get my eyes on more Forman immediately. And the cinematographic styling, my god, the styling! Just look at this winning last frame:

Brilliant. Unfortunately that's only half of it, I couldn't find the full frame online. I wonder if that frame served as Gondry's visual inspiration behind the bed on a beach scene in Eternal Sunshine. Beds outside: dissonant visual gold.

And later, when the Drawing Room dive was closing, I was putting the finishing touches of a finger-fog painting spelling out LOVES OF A BLONDE on the cold back windshield of a car in its parking lot, when its owner approached. That never happens. "Oh, uh, is this your car??" "Yep." He was all smiles and cheer about it though, I think he dug it.

Forman4EVZ.

adding kindle to the fire

2009-03-06T10:19:00.000-08:00

Nnnnnooooooooooo...!!

Devil with a USB Port, USB Port, USB Port on. I hate this product more than any other 2.0-era gadget, you guyz. I even hate it more than 25 Things Lists on Facebook. There was this chick in the Proust book group juliet & i made an attempt at joining last week who announced to a group of people, meeting about Proust, under the roof of an independently-run bookshop, that she was reading the novel on her kindle. I had that immediate fantasy, you know, of like running up to her in slow-motion with my fists all asunder and a crazy look in my eyes, animated steam perhaps shooting out of my ears. Plus, she had rhinestones on her back jean pockets. She had made a deliberate choice, to buy, and wear those jeans. With faux-converse sneakers. And, she sported a bigass diamond ring on her wedding finger. Seriously. What is the world coming to. WHAT IS IT COMING TO.

And in unrelated but equally irate news, I ask, WHY HAS NO ONE MADE ME A CAKE LIKE THIS YET?????

groping blindly

2009-03-05T23:31:00.000-08:00

jackson eaton photography

in a station of the metro

2009-03-04T15:24:00.000-08:00

the apparition of these faces in a crowd

petals on a wet, black bough

top, my favorite photog guy bourdin, bottom, strikingly similar composition via ffffound

i have found what you are like

2009-03-03T00:32:00.000-08:00

demon-seed

2009-03-02T16:23:00.000-08:00

Biked right behind J.K. Simmons today at the gym!!!!!!!!!!! He was, you know, only in my favorite comedic film in the history of cinema (The Ref -- he played Lieutenant Siskel, an army school teacher blackmailed by his student for incriminating sexshewal photos). He was also seriously excellent as a twisted Nazi fucker in Oz (directed by Terry Kinney, who directed me in a play at Steppenwolf back in the day! Shit, that was kind of an 'in.') I totally should have said something. Instead I kept grinning to myself goofily, looking around wondering if anyone else was as thrilled by his presence as I was. No one else even seemed to notice! I kept fantasizing about passing him a note while he worked out, something like "HEY, YOU ARE WONDERFUL," just so he knew, you know? But of course it remained a fantasy, as I 1) didn't have a pen 2) am a pussy.

You see, for me it's not about running into Angelina Jolie or Christina SpearsLoveAnistonHudsonHathaway, it's about guys like these, and gals like Doris Roberts. There's a thrill to running into a "celebrity," sure, someone that's been on covers of magazines and splashed across the various voyeuristic portals allowing us stronger glimpses into actors' lives to which any of us should have access, but above all, the thrill for me of watching Richard Lewis make a left hand turn in front of my car (today!) is recognizing someone out of the context of the fabricated world in which you already know them. Of course I don't already know them, but I have a strong, daily tendency to refer to movies to help me handle any given situation, so I've visited and revisited and revisited again (I also have a tendency to re-watch films like 9238493284 times and never get bored) these characters, scenarios, and stories, and so I guess what I'm trying to say is, the thrill comes from the shock of seeing them out of context, and also from just being honored to be in such close physical actual proximity to such performative talent. It ain't about the "fame," really (otherwise I would have given more than two shits about this particular run-in), it's about really loving, appreciating, and digesting what these people have done with the characters they've been given. And that's what leaves me slack-jawed and giggly. Here's to working beside you someday soon, Sir Simmons.

The Ref:

"And in my dream, I was served Lloyd's head on a plate of spinach...with his penis sticking out of his ear.

And I said,
'I didn't order this. "

And the waiter said,
"You must try it. It's a delicacy.

But don't eat the penis:
it's just garnish."

- Mmm.
- Lloyd, what do you
think about the dream?

I think she should stop telling it
at dinner parties to all our friends."

this big, ruined hotel

2009-03-01T18:16:00.000-08:00

"Ninety percent of this is psycho bullshit, I realize. But ten percent of it is real." Frank pointed a finger at Van Ness's throat. "And that's the ten percent we have to watch out for." -Already Dead: A California Gothic by Denis Johnson, my fortuitous Portland Powell's find (my happy place).

Photo by alex aristei

this is how you'll know me

2009-02-27T23:25:00.000-08:00

by dallas clayton, via magic molly

yes is a world

2009-02-27T12:36:00.000-08:00

completely charming & sweet video by israeli artist oren lavie. the entire video shot in thousands of stills, we see a girl on a bed, swimming and walking and biking thru her day -- my favorite moment is when the bed is converted into a train car, and when the cello floats across her sky, oh my how lovely.

watercolour milk

2009-02-26T17:14:00.000-08:00

Truly one of the most beautifully rendered "music videos" i have ever seen: a video triptych from creative duo Overture (who did the artwork for an, ahem, KiraKira album!) set to Hauschka. Bryum & Kapok are woodland creatures whose friendship and musical collaboration brings all the sweet mythical forest creatures together in a pseudo-pagan sonic dance love moment. Really lovely.

Freibad, one of my favorite Hauschka pieces, is the 3rd and final installment, embedded below. I wish I could relive that delightful wintry night at Schubas all over again. My nieces were totally mesmerized by this video, and immediately after I showed it to them, they rushed to find instruments emulating those of Bryum & Kapoks' so they could recreate the scene. It was with a private sense of glee that I heard them humming Hauschka for hours afterwards.

it's a fool who plays it cool

2009-02-25T23:04:00.001-08:00

this is so old, but for those of you that missed this the first time 'round, here's your chance. probably the cutest 3 year old in the world, singing 'hey jude' in his diaper, all the lyrics known by heart, and even a guitar chord or two, too.

this reminds me of cold, smoky late nites shared over cheap pint tins last year in london with mark, uncovering the weirdest/cutest/freakydeakiest shit on the internet side by side. missudewdie.

the best gesture of my brain is less than

2009-02-24T23:43:00.000-08:00

your eyelids' flutter which says

we are for each other

photos by susanna spangberg

yer my favorite aunt because yer always happy

2009-02-24T22:47:00.001-08:00

After 12 hours of sitting around in various airports (LAX, SFO) yesterday thanks to "weather conditions" (yeah, like i'm falling for that one), at last i arrived in the land of rain and the cutest nieces you ever did see -- portland. With all the delays, by the time i got in last nite the wee ones were already asleep, so this morning i was awoken at the non-magical hour of 6.30 am with magical kisses from a 4 & a 6 year old. ah!

today we: shopped for toys (hello kitty is still big, y'all), ate rainbow sprinkled donuts, drew mermaids, read berenstain bears (still big, y'all), i got my cardio on via an intense piggy back ride in the rain, and celebrated daisy's birthday with ice cream cake. HAYO. photos coming soon.

in the meantime, the best/creepiest photo of kurt methinks i've ever seen, because we can, and because i'm currently wearing my sister's red plaid scarf that she wore in the years that he was still truckin':

also, really, craigslist? how about someone hire me just to EDIT THESE JOB LISTINGZ:

time is on someone's side

2009-02-23T08:15:00.000-08:00

"OSCARS A TEN ON FREAKY DEAKY SCALE"

--last nite's text from Juliet

I would have to agree, (OMG "SEYMOUR PHILIP HOFFMAN" WTF, and Craigslist dancers??? really???), but not quite as freaky deaky awesome as this WALL OF CLOCKS at TJ's house. Yesssss. Plus he brought the party Midwestern-style, serving beef jerky, football-shaped sausage, cheese curds, and Coors.

His landlady knocked at 10.15 to yell at us for being too loud, "and I know you are having some kind of fun, but it is after ten, and peoples have to work tOMORROW!!!! IT IS MONDAY TOMORROW!" Being in a room full of stand-up comics was rather intimidating, there was a (seemingly weighted) board tallying the jokes. At least I rated (twice) (although my name was given a -hole at the end, aw).

off i go to visit my adorbz nieces in PORTLANDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!

the section that lists all the sections section

2009-02-22T15:09:00.001-08:00

ohman, paul rudd is so brilliant in this: michael showalter's parody of the NYTimes Weekender subscription commercials.

HAPPEE OSCARZ DAY!!!!!

Benis Practice

2009-02-20T15:53:00.000-08:00

crystal castles should totally remix the seinfeld theme song. that would be the bambajammmmmzzz0rzzzz.

the kind of sick that's brilliant...

2009-02-20T12:25:00.000-08:00

...or the kind that appeals to the 12-year old boy inside of me (ew). Like this morning, when I received an e-mail reading "UPS has shipped your pants," and, well, I'm sure you can guess where my foggy 6 am brain took that one.

ANYWAY. A ridiculous(ly awesome) blog dedicated to images of inter-species inter-course:

everybody loves celebrity-spotting

2009-02-19T23:03:00.000-08:00

Matthew Perry making out with Doris Roberts:

Tonite I ate a rather delarcious Ethiopian meal in (where else?) Little Ethiopia (there is a "Little" everything here, I happen to be near "Little Armenia," which is awesome), with my delightful new friend, who I met rather drunkenly on Valentine's evening at h. wood. I told him that I often spot celebrities because noticing the people around me is like the only thing I pay attention to. Minutes later, driving home down Sunset Boulevard, and I look over at the red light to see none other than a fancy black fur-coat clad DORIS ROBERTS sitting next to me in her shiny black Lexus. I got all giddy, and then didn't know where to look, like, do I mouth "HEY YOU'RE GREAT. I CAN'T FUKKIN' STAND THAT SHOW YOUR'E ON, BUT YOUR'E GREAT!" I would like to know her. I would like her to be my Los Angeles grandma. That would be nice. She looked nice. Well, she looked how most people look in their cars at red lights: blank, and sort of sad. She definitely was not rocking out to Fuck Buttons like I was, but she looked a-okay.

And also! Last nite Lucy Liu walked right by me at the Cha-Cha lounge. HAR! I LIVE INSIDE OF A MOVIE AND IT IS AMAZING. MAN I LOVE IT.

and a propos of two posts ago, here is lily allen's brand-new tat. even she is getting on the text tat train! weekend project, weekend project.

zut alors

2009-02-18T20:06:00.000-08:00

putain, it's possible to watch le ballon rouge online!!! my most favorite film from childhood, watched & re-watched & re-watched in french class year after year, huddled on the floor, knees to chin in the AV room, violins swelling and my obsession with balloons & paris growing with helium breaths.

MY DREAM:

ohman. if only.

all in green my love went riding

2009-02-17T17:54:00.000-08:00

plotting my third.

adjusting to the light

2009-02-17T11:23:00.000-08:00

don't change a hair for me

2009-02-14T12:52:00.000-08:00

So we just took a surreal kickboxing class at crunch fitness at which the instructor took a more than passing resemblance to Rex "roundhouse kick to the face" Kwan Do. I was waiting for him to start screaming about Starla at any moment, it was kind of scary. And awesome. And sweaty.

just kidding. raja's in town with all his stanford business school frendz and we're going to dance at some new club where radiohead threw a big party last weekend. which is almost the same as sobbing yourself to sleep. PSYCH. here's to 90% fewer emotionally unbalanced/unavailable/demented/psychotic dickheads in '09!
no but seriously, happy valentine's, everyone. <3

spaceships and forests.

2009-02-13T20:40:00.000-08:00

And I asked you to lie on the wooden floor with me
Even though it was cold on the floor, cool to the touch
We laid our backs on top of it and stared at the ceiling,
Side by side, our pinkies touching but nothing else, with careful breath.
Your pocket breathed up and down so close to my shoulder that
I could almost feel the weathered flannel whispering against my skin.
We pointed at things in the sky, on my ceiling, in our sky
“It’s cold on here,” you say, and get up
before the moment could match my head
(This was originally supposed to have a happy ending,
Like we kissed,
On the wooden floor,
While Yann Tiersen tinkled away in the background
And traffic threw shapes across our faces, like fleeting bruises

That we brushed away with our hands.
But then all that seemed wrong, and false, like
That kind of good ending wouldn’t actually happen
So I changed it, to make it more real.
He would get up,
Off the floor,
Because he felt cold.
Magic slipped through fingers, then,
Like coy ghosts,
And I would feel terribly lonely for a moment,
Before acting like I didn’t care.)

ANNA IS HERE

2009-02-12T13:44:00.000-08:00

AND SHE BROUGHT US CUPCAKES FROM MAGNOLIA BAKERY IN NEW YORK SITTEE

BEFORE

AFTER!!!11111

you're pretty like drugs

2009-02-11T20:24:00.000-08:00

all via lookbook, a fatal website thanks to its lack of page ends. it just reloads photo after photo until it's like 17 minutes later and you still haven't done your sit-ups or roasted your eggplant for dinner or emailed those people you were supposed to email or ANYTHING.

a family of trees wanted to be haunted

2009-02-11T19:52:00.000-08:00

kira, the wee years:

no idea who that d00d is but i was always wandering away from my parents to sit with strangers at restaurants, beaches, parties, etc., so he was likely my new friend at the moment.
even then, i liked the stage, i liked to boogie.

futurecop!

2009-02-10T19:28:00.001-08:00

funkyfresh track N.A.S.A. by Futurecop!

not as pretty as embedding music in tumblr, but hay, i'm a loyalist. (i.e. i'm afraid of lozing my whole blawg if i switch over to the tumblr side of things)

also please see their 80s insanity myspace page, it's pure neon hairsprayed unicorned glory

i totally used to bang a girl who went to nyu

2009-02-10T13:45:00.000-08:00

two guys compete for taking an unsuspecting girl out on the worst date possible.

i just want to see you underwater

2009-02-09T23:06:00.000-08:00

Vic posted about these awhile ago, but I came across them again this evening and they appeared especially magical. What a lovely project by some Russian designers, called Your Personal Moon. more here.

I love this poem by Kendra Grant Malone. And not only because the smell of christmas gets a mention.

I wish this place would hire me, but they, like everywhere else in Los Angeles, it seems, are not hiring. bleurg.

Fuck yes I just paid $13 for Sam Pink's book, "I am going to clone myself then kill the clone and eat it." He sent me his last chapbook, "Yum Yum I can't wait to die" for free, which I fucking loved and read like 3 times and keep on my nightstand so in case I need to laugh before bed/in the middle of the night/immediately upon waking, I have it at my beck and fucking call. I will have one less bottle of wine and approximately 2 less delicious things to eat/drink this week because of the unexpected cost of this book, but that is okay, because Sam Pink's words are that worth it.

Also, I am 73% certain I am getting an earache.

i would like to get to know this fence better

2009-02-09T20:52:00.000-08:00

at the late great hour of 8.58 pm, i've found what to do with MY evening. my date with juliet, rhan, & louis theroux (wisher of wishes!!! as close as i can get, a viewing of one of his documentaries) was postponed til tomorrow since i have to get up so early for work. This means i'll be cuddling up to a short documentary on Objectum Sexuality before bed. Oh, internet, you are full of so many random wonderful things. Apparently this phenomenon features women (always women, strangely) who fall in love with objects, such as fences, crossbows, amusement park rides, and tourist attractions. Clip can be seen here on Jezebel, full documentary Married to the Eiffel Tower (really, she is) here. Waoooooowwwwww.

this 50-cent piece has your name on it

2009-02-08T12:16:00.000-08:00

danced next to this pompadoured fellow at homme in phoenix last week, had to share. mad propz to kirsten for capturing his glory.

ummm this is why i love living in LA. These photos of that 90210 chick were taken AS I WAS ENTERING THE VERY SAME BIKRAM STUDIO. i saw this girl come out of the studio and say to her friend waiting for her "Ohmygod, how embarrassing is that, they're waiting for me outside of YOGA CLASS NOW." so then i turned to see 4 or 5 paparazzi running towards us to take photos of her. i didn't recognize her, but everyone loitering around the studio lobby was visibly irritated when she brashly hollered out to them "WHY DON'T YOU COME INTO CLASS WITH ME, YOU GUYZ? SERIOUSLY! GET YOUR YOGA ON!!" oof. yeah, we all believe you want to remain inconspicuous.

but wheeeee i LIVE IN MOVIE-LAND! We went out for a drink at this cabaret lounge, and when we sat down I said excitedly to Miranda, "This place looks like something out of Swingers!" Rhan later enlightened me to the fact that part of Swingers was, indeed, filmed there. HO SNAP.

hire meeeeeeee

2009-02-07T13:25:00.000-08:00

oh, if only.

vhrrtd, lobr

2009-02-05T18:24:00.001-08:00

yessssssss. via mcsweenayyyy's

i just spent THREE HOURS in traffic. technically i could be in arizona by now. but no, i merely traversed a tremendously rainy los angeles from westwood to los feliz. AUGHGHGHGHGHGHGHHHH. as if that's not soul-crushing enough, my phone died half-way through.

but! my roots aren't insane anymore, despite too long in a salon chair ((why my natural hair color gotta be so boring? damn shame.) where i read in Vogue that downtrodden-economy-stricken socialites in nyc would rather "eat peanut butter for a month than go without highlights and $70 concealer"), and i have an interview tomorrow at a fancy-schmancy, potentially hellz-high-paying job, sooooooo..... ::fingas crozzd::

the love i sell you in the evening

2009-02-04T01:26:00.000-08:00

kind of obsessed with twi the humble feather right now. think panda bear meets pared-down animal collective meets jose gonzalez. No electronic bits are involved (NO KIRSTEN I DO NOT ALWAYS NEED A SYNTHESIZER IN MY MEWZIC, LIFE JUST HAPPENS TO BE BETTER WHEN ONE IS AROUND.), just inventive string work & a soaring threesome of falsetto a capella. twi, pronounced like why, you are so hot right now.

also a certain ryan manning sent me an email saying he was "horny" for the upcoming last days album, to which i responded that i was horny for the upcoming here we go magic album, and within hours he somehow FOUND THE ENTIRE ALBUM ONLINE AND SENT IT TO ME SONG BY SONG. if that's not sexual satisfaction then I DON'T KNOW WHAT IS. thank you internet boyfriend. i loveeeee yewwwwwwww. (cue 30 internet heartz)

photo by the sexcellent jan durina.

did you see the word

2009-02-03T12:34:00.000-08:00

Los Angeles: where the streets ~~have no name~~ greet you hello.

yesterday, after dropping my sweet angel of a road-trippin' partnah kirsten off at the airport and realizing that now my new life is Actually, Really, Truly beginning, i had a mini-freek-owt. But, by the time the 5 North came around and I coasted off at the exit for Target, the tears were wiped away and I calmed myself in the sterile anonymity of their halogen-lit aisles. I cut myself on a bookcase box and the checkout lady awwed over my "boo-boo" and put a band-aid on my finger. Target Mommy.

My apartment is sunny beautiful, Los Angeles is summer-warm, I'm reunited with juliet (& delightful rhan!), and my roommate is just as lovely as when we shared a stage 7 years ago, or when we shared bed 4 years ago in Rome (gone are her night terrors, thankfully -- those dark late hours when she would fitfully smack me mid-sleep, or would "sleep-run" up and down our hallway freaking out that someone stole her purse...ah. separate rooms, now! no matter!). A full week lies ahead of job-searching, contact-making, headshot-sending, Patti Smith movie-viewing, museum-going, Bird & the Bee concert-attending, LA-ing, LA-ing, LA-ing...ah.

And just before I can freak out again or get too lonely, my longest-ago friend (we go all the way back to preschool, hayyyyy) is coming out from New York next week to help me get adjusted here. And also to bring me cupcakes from Magnolia Bakery. (!!!!) (whee.)

FEENIX!!!!

2009-01-30T12:41:00.000-08:00

FRIEND FAIL: leaving a fatigued kirsten at the bottom-ish o' camelback mountain to climb my way to the top. last time i attempted it, when i lived in phoenix, i brought my wee dog and he had difficulty pawing his wee claws up the side o' the mountain (chihuahua mixes don't = mountain goats).

MILEAGE FAIL: when people say "it's just another mile or so up," they mean vertical miles, which, folks, feel way different than HORIZONTAL miles. fyi.

SO PRETTEE!

Flagstaff cafes: topical.

getting my dance on at gas stazns across this nazn.

you said i was the road map reader

2009-01-28T21:06:00.000-08:00

mad hair.
we match for our free howard johnson breakfasz.

Kirsten is inordinately obsessed with tumbleweeds. Apparently she has never seen an ACTUAL tumbleweed cross a road before, and so whenever one rolls across our line of vision, she feels some sort of demented compulsion to yell "TUMBLEWEEEEEEEEEEEEED." Somehow I still love her, even after the 19th tumbleweed. "We had at least 45 tumbleweeeeeeeeeeeeedz!"

UNICORNZ IN COLORADO
VEGETARIAN OPTION FAIL:

"Oh. Thank you, but I don't eat meat, and everything on the menu is..."

"Aw, but we have some GREAT baked potatoes."

Anddddd then came the 2nd Subway salad in 18 hours.

g'nite from santa-hayyyyy.

hojo

2009-01-28T20:48:00.000-08:00

mornin', nebraska. 15moreminutes15moreminutes15moreminutes.

i'm so devotchka'd to you

2009-01-27T20:01:00.000-08:00

HAY EVERYBODY!

kirsten & kira here, live-blogging from a howard johnson in the fair cosmopolitan metropolis of Grand Island, KNEE-BRASKA. we had to reserve this room from the internet, located on the world's oldest still-functioning computer (INTERNET EXPLORER 3 FAIL) located in the "business room" of the hotel, adjacent to reception, since it was "$9 cheaper online." Nevermind you the receptionist was sitting AT a computer. HOTEL FAIL.

HOTEL FAIL STORY NOT OVER. While we are waiting for the room reservation confirmation number to move the 5 feet from the internet explorer in the business room to the receptionist's internet (took 10 minutes), we were accosted by an overly-capped tooth self-described "dirtiest old man, she can tell ye," followed by a knowing nod towards the receptionist. He was carrying a plastic bottle of "UV Raspberry Vodka" in a small paper bag, and his teeth were already stained light blue.

"Why are you moving to California? Got a boyfriend there?"

"No," (through gritted teeth).

"Hell! Why would you move without doing it for a boyfriend?"

"UH....Why would I need a boyfriend to move?"

"That's all they women I know! The only women who move are those who do it to be closer to their boyfriends."

Kirsten goes "NEWSFLASH WALTER KRONKITE." and I got all Germaine Greer on his ass, like "Women do not need a boyfriend for an excuse to move, or to you know, do things with their own lives."

"Oh. So you're just, movin' on over there to like, live your life?" accompanied by an effeminate wave of the hands.

"Yah."

"Need a boyfriend? I mean I'll volunteer!" He then leans in to breathe in an overly loud and alcoholic whisper, "it's her (receptionist's) birthday on Friday. I gave her her present early. Look at her neck."

The receptionist then lifts her collar to show the massive hickey she had received from him, proud to be a 25-year old Howard Johnson receptionist with such a perverted winner of 50-year old "dirty old man salesman."

TUESDAY'S ROAD TRIP ROUNDUP OF BEST CITY NAMES ALONG THE WAY TO LA:

What Cheer, Iowa

Montezuma, Iowa

Friend, Nebraska

wind in your hair ribbons on your face

2009-01-26T22:45:00.000-08:00

en route to LA, on route 66 ... i'll miss you, chicago, old friends, new friends, familee, new dog, old haunts, new haunts ... see you soon, dear ones. onwards and outwards to starting over, yet again...

top photo here, bottom 3 by the wonderful sara macel

then & now & back again

2009-01-26T22:22:00.000-08:00

why i love maren: she is the cutest thing probably in the entire solar system. tonite, she brought me my favorite things ever: candy corn & white chocolate pretzels for the road trip. in high school, instead of doing drugs & drinking, we would make late-nite Windy City Candy runs, giddy on sugar and each other. 17 years of best friendship, oh i'll miss having this doe-eyed delight in my everyday.

why & why & yes & yes

2009-01-26T22:15:00.000-08:00

why i love jill and why the phoenix leg o' the trip can't come soon enough:

why i love my job -- watching this with amy & the hot australian d00d at the useless post-5 pm work hour:

kings of convenience, 'i'd rather dance with you'

his bowtie is really a camera

2009-01-24T12:52:00.000-08:00

SHE KNOWS.

it's like choosing between children. the trusty nissan can only hold so much weight. GAH.

also, holy motherfuckingshit, the entire fever ray album is off tha chain AMARZINGNAGNNAGNGNGNANGNGNNGG, as expected.

here's the fantastically macabre/outrageously brilliant video for 'if i had a heart' from director andreas nilsson:

master of pidginz

2009-01-24T11:08:00.000-08:00

speaking of animal collective, chad von nau created an unbelievably trippy aquatic beautiful vimeotic situation of 'my girls' here

some japanther love, filmed by von nau:

von nau via mb! (say that 5 times fast)

who rubs our noses in the night? we do we do

2009-01-24T02:56:00.000-08:00

and i don't make particular plans 'cause they don't matter

if you keep on fooling in bed with my sleeping patterns

and we dance upon the plains

then i shake your little shoulders

you push me down into the grains

(ac, grass)

the weather was nice, we slept in the grass painting by groundwork

between the click of the light

2009-01-23T00:32:00.000-08:00

Here We Go Magic's infectious song "Tunnelvision" seriously, i've listened to this track like 8 times in a row now.

also, some "eccentric austrian" d00d saved the polaroid! huzzah.

ok its 2.40 am why am i still up. must...stop...reading...the internets...

photo by amanda farah

cool as a

2009-01-23T00:08:00.001-08:00

quit playing with yr vegetablez

(never)

SHARK ON A WIRE

2009-01-21T21:53:00.000-08:00

via fuckyeahsharks tumblr of awesome

nothing but green lights from here

2009-01-21T15:21:00.000-08:00

HAY. WE FOUND AN APARTMENT IN LOS ANGELEEZ

!!!!1111111

finalleeeeee.

Now let's just hope we win it. In the heart o' los feliz, too! wheeeeeee.

I'm tired of leaving people & places now. I wonder if in the next week, Chicago will appropriate the melancholically lovely, desirous patina in which London shined during my last days there. I suppose it's different here, since I know I'll be back home again and again...London is a slightly further haul.

Hey, there is me & zach up above, walking arm & arm through a rainy royal park in londontown in one of my last months.

We filmed the intro to & edited my reel today...very exciting. My car passed its safety inspection and I've got lots of Last Suppers lined up. I'm getting closer & closer each moment. I can almost feel the 80-degree heat and the clammy warmth of my beautiful best friend's hand. I'm mere days away from you, dear one!

someone pleaseplease do this to me.

(film still from five more minutes, via mb!)

Ok, time to add some more plaid and go drink beer in a dark-lit bar with church pews for seats.

press on me: we are restless things

2009-01-20T22:03:00.000-08:00

fact: work on wine & whiskey (lost count after shot 5) and 4 hours of sleep is a CHALLENGE. If one were so inclined, one might even refer to it as "brave."

fact: reading sam pink's dementedly brilliant chapbook yum yum i can't wait to die on the el is a ridiculous effort in self-control. i'm sure i looked like the biggest asshole sitting and laughing to myself on the commute home, and it was the 2nd time i'd read it. more on that tomorrow.

fact: inauguration parties for a president you actually admire: (i solemnly swear) VERDICT GOOD. (you were worth every minute of gary, barry!) maren's veggie chili: VERDICT ALSO GOOD. free ticket to eddie's play @ the MCA this week: VERDICT VERY GOOD.

fact: minutes 11:57 - 16:53 of joanna newsom's 'only skin' give me goosebumps every single time, and i think that no other cluster of musical minutes can give me that same soaring kind of palpable, immediate joy. the moment bill calahan's voice chimes in with hers...ah.

what'll i do with a trinket such as this?

think of your woman, who's gone to the west

but i'm starving and freezing in my measly old bed!

then i'll crawl across the salt flats to stroke your sweet head

oh, and here's DJ Z-Trip, just wakin' up, you know, havin' a morning cuddle. Here's this doe-eyed fellow's trippy rad Obama mix download.

these posts are kind of schizo. you didn't care about continuity or anything, did you?

top photo, o'keefe's hands by alfred stieglitz, 1918

cartoon in a cartoon graveyard

2009-01-19T16:07:00.000-08:00

tapioca pudding. fffound. in my dad's fridge. a couple of days ~~years~~ days ago. AUGH!! also, yogurt from 4 months ago. "i never have time to grocery shop."

fffound. in my mailbox. a couple days ago. from my adorrrrrrable niece matilda. this is henceforth how i shall spell love: (also always with a rad 6-legged panda bear(?) next to it)

a sky that is gaping and yawning

2009-01-18T21:02:00.000-08:00

This weekend: a romantical Saturday nite date with two 11-year olds at the lovely uncommon ground, a ridiculously delicious birthday dinner at sushi samba (melted mozzarella on my salmon maki? YESPLEASE), and two movies I am completely ashamed of having paid for, one of which I actually enjoyed. (under no circumstances should you cave to some sort of base comic instinct to go see Mall Cop. Granted, the 11-year olds dragged me to it, but I was thisclose to offering the mother next to me my services pacing up and down the lobby with her crying kid, it would have been more entertaining than the suckfest on the screen.) And yeah, as much as I normally can't stand romantic comedies/any movie Kate Hudson ever makes (except Almost Famous, obvs), Bride Wars was...actually pretty goddamn entertaining. ::Dodges flying fruit:: Above-average dialogue and two cute stars helped alleviate the uber-ridiculous premise. Shhh, I know, I know!

It felt sort of good to see such stupid movies, though. I normally never go see those types of films but it felt like I was cheering myself up out of the recession with some Hollywood banality. Well, Bride Wars made me feel that way. Mall Cop just really, really bored me. Driving to the theater, the sweet 11-year old girl I babysit asked me which movie theater we were headed towards.

When I told her, she responded "Is that the theater with all the black people?"

"Uhhh, I don't know...maybe??"

"Oh. Well, I don't like that one."

"Why...??!" I asked, mildly panicked about the Potential Serious Conversation ahead.

"They don't have the type of pretzels I like there."

Phew.

I am looking forward to escaping the Midwest in T minus 9 days if for no other reason than my exasperation with this bout of weather evocative of a 19th century Mongolian gulag. Everyone walks around looking more than slightly pained. My eyeliner is practically all cried away by the time I arrive, bleary-eyed and frozen-fingered, to the train stop. Plus, the -40 windchill is seriously cramping my sartorial range. Boots, or other boots? Two, or three layers of socks? I grow weary of my dog hair-ridden wool coat and too lazy to seek out a de-linter.

Other activities I find far too boring to bother with:

*Flossing

*Stretching

*Backing up computer files

*Checking bank statements

Photo 1 here, Photo 2 via ffffound

i grow old, i shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled

2009-01-17T22:12:00.000-08:00

men should probably all dress like this. gohh. love that gay english edwardian thing. if you dress as though you live within the lines of an eliot poem, you are doing things RIGHT.

Photography by Anna Wolf

why should i share you

2009-01-15T22:31:00.000-08:00

why don't you get rid of someone else for a change?
i am the least difficult of men

all i want is boundless love.

(top svarta, bottom two dj hanus)

apple isn't resting on its laurels

2009-01-15T16:41:00.000-08:00

i thought this was real until about the 1-minute mark.

Apple Introduces Revolutionary New Laptop With No Keyboard

innovative new computer just takes 45 minutes to send an email! screen goes dark after 4 seconds of non-use to conserve energy! yesssss, onion tv, yessss.

champagnyah!

2009-01-14T10:26:00.001-08:00

Post homemade veggie burritos and pre-vegan birthday cake, Ben (who studied furniture design at RISD) was discussing different wood-making techniques last nite and referred in passing to the Campana Brothers, Brazilian brothas-from-the-same-mutha-design partners who have been creating innovative sculpture/design installations using found objects since the '80s. This led to an unbelievable discovery: their insanely trippy, hellz "cutting edge" website. We all sat around the computer kind of dumbfounded and slack-jawed, even though we couldn't even load all the pages since it "requires a(n impossibly) fast connection and Macromedia Flash Player 7." Website stills found above. Keep the sound on, yallz. Also note the wee arrows pointing you to the next page, it took us awhile to figure that out. The website is maybe a bit TOO complex/labyrinthine, i.e. not so user-friendly, but mad props for the design, it really is pretty outstanding.

Here they is (Fernando & Humberto)...i want that headdress.

The Anemona Chair, which reminded me immediately of the badass tutu chair my lovely Londontown flatmate Olivia created for her thesis project for Liberty's of London:

tewdaie

2009-01-12T19:12:00.000-08:00

THIS FEELS LIKE NORMAL arrived today! Before even opening it or reading any of the poems, I already know it is going to be amazing thanks to the goofy ass forty on the cover -- drawn by the magical Tao Lin, no less! Someone should buy me his first poetry collection, 'you are a little bit happier than i am.' that would make me a little bit happier than them. and then i would win.

This evening consists of the gym + the next 2 photos:

-->possibly the best review of all time. i like how the critic didn't get too carried away.

And in honor of an insane haiku i received in my inbox the other day dedicated to yours truly, last nite the laydeez and i penned (without a pen) a haiku of our own, dedicated to 30 Rock:

"two ears and a heart

freaky-deakies need love too

sex and awesomeness"

Whether you get that or not depends on whether or not you have the stamina and strength of character to watch the same 2 seasons of a television show ad nauseam.

"I like his lardy-ness," mum says about the rather dashing Alec Baldwin.

Also, people were pretty excitable today, judging from my kind of jarringly caps-infused inbox:

wheezy

2009-01-11T16:47:00.000-08:00

where the wild things are movie stills!!!! wtf amazing.

also why isn't this my room:

all via lolita

beady-eyed wee delights

2009-01-09T05:39:00.000-08:00

pantherlike in a dapple of tree shadow

2009-01-07T09:31:00.000-08:00

London-based photographer Jeff Bark, via synthetic pubes. That last one is criminally good.

crawl across the salt flats

2009-01-07T08:51:00.001-08:00

last nite: The Reader & a late meal served by a dead ringer for eric stoltz at La Creperie.

We were split on how we felt about the film, but I loved it -- an excellent morality tale, and far superior to Revolutionary Road, although both films showcase Kate Winslet's damn fine acting skills. She is a serious cinematic force, against whom DiCaprio appears puerile and amateur, but this kid in The Reader (above, David Kross) held his own pretty beautifully. And Ralph Fiennes, it goes without saying, is as handsome and full of grace as ever. Now I really want to read the novel.

I just finished Submarine, I'm sad. Now there's that listless in-between feeling, with books piled high next to my bed and not sure what to delve into first.

Tonight: Transamerica road-trip plotting with Kirsten. 5-6 days, Chicago --> Nashville --> Los Angeles by way o' the warm south, away from the snow and ice.

oh, and here obama plugs dixie kitchen's corn cakes on a lost 2001 episode of Check, Please!

loo - loo - loo, submarine

2009-01-05T09:26:00.000-08:00

For the past week I have been thoroughly engrossed in Joe Dunthorne's Submarine. Why haven't you read this book yet? Why hadn't I? I saw him give a reading at the London Word Festival last March, was utterly charmed by his boyish, sweet honest Welsh face and longish blonde hair, and made to feel wholly insufficient by the fact that we are the same age and he was up on stage reading from his first published novel, critically hailed (and not egregiously so) as our generation's Catcher in the Rye. I finally got my act together and forked over the money for the hardcover edition. And so should you.

I love this book, I loaf it, I loave it. I do not want it to end. A teenage Welsh boy with a hot, eczema-addled girlfriend and New Agey parents with a rocky marriage and a struggling sex life (his mother's meditation-teacher/reflexologist/holistic therapist ex-boyfriend Graham seems to keep getting in the way). A few choice excerpts:

---

I have one other, major concern: sex words. Some words have the mark of an amateur: nob, todger, willy. Penis and vagina are fine nouns but when overused they tend to make me think of the coffee tide-marks on Mrs. Profit's teeth. We asked our Welsh teacher, Mr. Llewellyn -- who is almost young -- to tell us the Welsh sex words. The Welsh word for sex is Rhyw. It sounds like coughing. He said that, in general, Welsh speakers use English words. When pressed, he gave us a couple of examples to show us why this might be. Llawes goch means "red sleeve." Coes fach means "small leg." The phrase would be "put your small leg in my red sleeve."

Some euphemisms make you sound like Martin Clove, a boy who for psychological reasons doesn't have to use the communal showers after rugby. When we ask Martin what is wrong with his wang he gets defensive and refers to it as his little man. This implies a kind of distant, seemingly friendly relationship between him and his penis.

---

Later in the book, Oliver sneaks into his mother's ex-boyfriend's house to fuck some shit up. He leaves a teaspoon in the microwave, drinks Graham's brandy, and writes in his calendar/diary (Note: Jill Tate=Oliver's mum):

"I find yesterday's date, Saturday the 30th, and then I turn forward one week to the following Saturday. I pencil in Come deep inside Jill Tate. I count forward 24 weeks and write, last chance saloon for aborting love-child. I count forward another 16 weeks: birth of illegitimate son/daughter. Not to self: Cop a feel of Jills lactating tits."

Unrelated but also awesome, go here to see the loveliest panoramic night view of Paris by Arnaud Frich (sweet ass find by ms. kirsten).

exploding from all the awesome

2009-01-03T12:06:00.001-08:00

i'm about week late on this news, but ZOOEY DESCHANEL & BEN GIBBARD ARE ENGAGED WTF AMAZING. holy eff is that a divine match. my zeal for zooey hath previously been chronicled on this here blawg, which "the yes man," playing now in a theater near you, only served to intensify. i am probably way too excited about this match. i loved her with jason schwartzmann too, damn this lady has good taste. three cheers for gibbardeschanel.

condensation

2008-12-31T11:01:00.000-08:00

muted moody winter love, by brittanie pendleton. her photos makes me want to 1) lounge around in delicate lingerie 2) add austin to the lengthy list of stops on our road trip, so i can stalk her, befriend her, and buy her prints. hmm.

i do what i want

2008-12-26T20:29:00.000-08:00

Birthday Cake Phenomenon: in which you covertly eat off of the sides before the guests have a chance to arrive, before the candles are lit. IT'S MY PARTY AND (WHATEVA!), I DO WHAT I WAHNT. Seriously though, how delarcious does that cake look?! Mum's famous homemade carrot cake; chef pictured, not-so-covertly indulging pre-guest arrival, too.

dimensions

2008-12-24T07:44:00.000-08:00

I've had to work every day since I last posted. Gross. Anyway, a rare 2 day breathing space! For Christmas! Merry Christmas everyone! Merry KIRAMAS, too.

That's right, tomorrow is my 25th birthday. I don't know if I feel apathetic about Christmas this year (blaspheme of blasphemes) because I'm not thrilled about turning 25 (seems like rounding the last of the exciting birthday corners), or because I've been working nonstop, or because I'm in this weird transitional space or what, but the jolly tidings I usually feel seem to be hidden somewhere around here. Hopefully I'll find them under a huge slice of frosting-laden cake on my birthday.

Things have reached epic proportions in my trans-national flirtation. Must be the holiday frenzy. I was invited to escape Chicago's horrific blizzardy freezing mess by moving in with him. "We've got a beach house and a boat!" he drawled.

"Who's WE?" I pointed.

"Well, me and mah dad."

Ah, well, no judgment, I'm currently living with my mother, too.

What else?

On Sunday, I babysat for a pair of awesome 11-year old twins. "We" made a gingerbread house. Which meant that the gingerbread kit came with confusing instructions, and I ended up with flour all over my face, white paste goo everywhere, and a broken home (oh, the metaphors!).

"Kiraaaaaaa!" they squealed. "Why won't the house work??!" A rare glimpse into the future of motherhood, it did not seem inviting. Clearly I'm unprepared. How the hell does anyone know how to do any of this stuff? I burned the gingerbread men and the house refused to stick to itself.

"I'm not good at this kind of thing!" I declared. "I'm not very crafty."

"But...you look artsy!" the wee girl pointed out.

"Right, but not this kind of artsy...not..." I trailed off.

"You mean you're not three-dimensionally artistic."

"Yes, that's right. I best operate in 2-dimensions."

Unfortunately for my loved ones, it's present-wrapping time.

double-socking it

2008-12-15T21:45:00.000-08:00

no, that's no sexual intercourse euphemism. chicago winter weather is out of control. i don't remember it being this cold. after the 3 minute walk to the logan square train stop, i look as though i've just finished watching dancer in the dark. fie, overactive tear ducts!! fie!!

i have a completely inappropriate relationship with a dashing (i imagine) young fellow in virginia with a sexy drawl. my job requires that i call him a few times a day with questions, and today as i answered the phone "___, this is Kira," I was met with "Just the girl i was looking for," and in a later call, was asked out to dinner. "I've never been to Chicago," he says. "And I've never been to Virginia!" I doltishly twittered. Which is not even true, I realized later. I could feel the silent mocking of the web developer who sits next to me.

Goat cheese kisses and jasmine tea were had later, on a real date with a live human boy and everything. Also last nite I went to a party where they served CAKE POPS (see above). Cake, with frosting, on LOLLIPOP STICKS, PEOPLE. It was very there's something about mary "there needs to be more dessert on sticks," minus the cum hair.

This post is probably way oversharing but I am too tired to know the difference. I don't have a day off until Christmas Eve. fatigue! fie!

act i & ii

2008-12-14T12:43:00.000-08:00

ii things that made my day:

making & eating the shit out of these pumpkin-walnut-heath-white chocolate chip orgasmic explosion cookies:

this photo of my adorable, way-too-far-away nieces in portland:

now i am going to lie in bed & read this until i pass out, as 3 hours of vodka-laden sleep does not a good sunday nite christmas party mood make.

still, though, busting the sequins out of the closet in a matter of hours.

T.B., or not T.B.

2008-12-06T17:37:00.000-08:00

I'm not exactly sure how I've gone 24 years without having seen Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Sex (but were too afraid to ask), but it is to be sure a tragedy on the grandest scale.

Woody Allen as a failing court jester trying to worm his way into the queen's chastity belt? EFFING BRILLIANT.

Genius Gene Wilder, falling in love with a sheep, exploiting his masterful control of physical and emotional expression to hilarious comedic effect "Sir, it is not NORMAL TO HAVE MATURE LOVE FOR SOMETHING WITH FOUR LEGS!" Ah god. seriously. genius. go see, go see, go see. luckily i bought it for eight dolla at reckless records, so i can watch it like 17 more times this week.
*Bonus: Fred the Baker, of 'time to make the donuts' Dunkin' Donuts fame, plays a cross-dressing cameo. Seriously, what kind of ridiculous career did that dude have?? amazing. (ah want that.)

island hidden in the sound

2008-12-04T21:34:00.000-08:00

adorbs mum and our adorbs sophie, on the beautiful precipice of lake michigan's pseudo-frozen, botulism-ridden waters.

just take your time / i take my time

2008-12-04T19:54:00.000-08:00

Things I am currently excited about:

The week-long French film festival @ facets.

Eating peppermint ice cream for dinner (check).

The perfume i created today for a beautiful freckled girl named Mallory (white tea, pomegranate, french vanilla).

Being told I need to spend the next few months "investigating and indulging in my Venusian aspect" by an astrocartographer.

This midnite show at the music box:

Things I have recently enjoyed looking at:

by Elena Kulikova

Things I will be doing with my freezing cold Friday (-3 degrees!):

a date under an electric blanket, in front of a joyful panoply of dvd's (woody allen & miranda july & ingmar bergman, oh my).

don't let anybody tell you that you're not humpable

2008-11-30T20:41:00.000-08:00

Well, Thanksgiving was lovelier than I could have imagined, despite my rather debilitating cat allergies. My parents sharing a meal together for the first time in six years was pretty momentous, and strangely, wonderfully, good -- great, even, like tears of laughter running down my face great. Like home. Like the holidays should be. Plus, I made that pumpkin pie my bitch, my cousin played his beautiful compositions on the piano, my uncle played his git-tar and serenaded us, my cousin and I beat his dad at Trivial Pursuit for the first time ever, and did I mention I made that pumpkin pie my bitch?

This church and state dress is now minemineminemine thanks to an early xmas present from dad and i am nevereverever taking it off, sorree hygiene.

A drunken Australian at the Map Room enlightened me on Australian dialect "My name is Alistair, anyhow." "your name is Alistair Anyhow?" "Noye, that's ... just what we say." and the romance of modern voyager bedding practices: "It's my last night in Chicago, what bar around here can I find a bird to take home with me tonight?" "Well, it depends what kind of girl you're looking for." "No preference, really" was the joyful response. Kirsten told him she lived in Cairns for 6 months and he pointed at her rack and yelled "Cairns? CANS." Splendid.

A busy week lies ahead of gainful employment, bookslut readings, bikram, pizza dates, magazine parties, and caroling at cloud gate. KIRAMAS IS HEEEEERE.

Kirsten & I have been serenading each other with this kind of non-stop, I didn't want to exclude you. Enjoy.

(why can't a heterosexual guy tell a heterosexual guy that he thinks his booty is fly??)

just one last hit like

2008-11-24T22:31:00.000-08:00

your leisure is my pleasure.

today i:

*finished this on the el on my way to work in the wee pre-9 am hours, contentedly sandwiched in a packed car between many a metrognome:

I enjoyed it, but I can't say it's my favorite murakami -- his effort at rendering a cinematic effect felt like he was wrenching it out of the text rather than letting it fall quietly between the lines, which is what otherwise makes murakami such pleasurable magic. i much prefer sputnik sweetheart, norwegian wood, or kafka on the shore to this one.

then it snowed a glorious, full-on, christmas-type big wet flaky snow as i headed to a friend's place to drink cocoa with marshmallows (i'm the world's worst "vegetarian"...fine, fine, pescetarian) and watch scottish drug addicts do their scottish drug addict THANG. oh, ewan, you can do no wrong.

west coast boyfriends

2008-11-21T10:32:00.000-08:00

"a weekly roundup of america through the eyes of two American Americans."

yessssss. i.e. two guys, sitting around stoned in their LA apartment, discussing delusions, colon rolling (!!!) craigslist m4m posts masquerading as m4w posts, imitating steven wright, and generally enjoying each other's company immensely. like pot psychology but better, before tracie & rich began phoning it in.

gohhhh i love them. BEARDY. +2 points for los angeleez.

reverse moustache

2008-11-21T09:03:00.000-08:00

Bob's awesome new blog, reverse moustache, does just that. Categories include Dictators, Directors, and Fictional Characters. the Tom Selleck one is pure reverse 'stache gold.

i've gone looking for that feeling everywhere

2008-11-19T20:32:00.000-08:00

"Where are my women now, with their sweet wet words and ways, and the miraculous balls of hail popping in a green translucence in the yards? We put on our clothes, she and I, and walked out into a town flooded ankle-deep with white, buoyant stones. Birth should have been like that." -Denis Johnson, Jesus's Son

stunning photo by Elea Rage, via syntheticpubes

dumbstruck with the sweetness of being

2008-11-19T19:40:00.000-08:00

current obsessions:

-gmail's schizo new 'themes' options -- wtf awesomeeeee. mine is currently set to 'phantasea.'

-the haunting, eerie, trembling persistence of Growing's track (& video for) 'Wrong Ride':

(better quality on pitchfork.tv, but for some reason embedding pitchfork's videos on blogger effs up the whole page's layout)

-American architect Stephen Holl's winning design for jaw-droppingly futuristic and sleek new building in Copenhagen, with a pedestrian footbridge linking both sides of the harbor. Now, if possible, i'm even more excited about the prospect of meeting up with my london flatmates in sweet nymphette louise's hometown of copenhagen next summer.

-the pumpkin pie yogurt i purchased this eventide in a heinously expensive Target run. trying to find a photo of it led me to another obsession -- an entire website dedicated to all things pumpkin. maren & i were just discussing last nite over Flossmoor Station's Big Black Pumpkin beer that when we achieve our life dream and open our organic restaurant in northern california, we will have a pumpkin patch and that ingredient will be all OVER our menu. (i....will eat anything involving that cheerful rotund fruit.)

that's right, that's obama up there with pumpkins, saying YES WE CAN EAT PUMPKIN-FLAVORED FOODSTUFFS EVERY SINGLE DAY.

fred the baker

2008-11-18T09:47:00.000-08:00

I kind of really want this job if only so that i can say, on a daily basis in a melodramatically fatigued timbre, "Time to make the donuts." Also, free donuts on a daily basis. Dangerous.

I'll ponder this (and my newly barely-employed status -- that's right, quit the khakis & necktie (nut)job) on the 5-mile run I'm about to attempt. This effort will be duly rewarded with generous-sized bottles of Dragon's Milk later at my favorite Bucktown pub.

Ghettofied audio-visual return to childhood, below:

(write it)

2008-11-17T22:52:00.000-08:00

My most favorite Elizabeth Bishop poem, One Art:

without you, today's emotions would be the scurf of yesterday's

2008-11-17T21:01:00.000-08:00

be forewarned: ree-DICULOUS, unnatural, jaw-dropping quantities of adorable in this video. World, meet Mini Amelie Poulain:

Once upon a time... from Capucha on Vimeo.

dusseldorfing

2008-11-17T09:48:00.000-08:00

Went to a delightful Hauschka show last nite. The spry, sweet German fellow, Volker Bertelmann, is a classically trained pianist/composer who outfits his piano with all manner of accessories and trinkets such as leather straps, utensils, bells, & whistles galore. He sat with his piano facing the stage so that we could witness the ingenuity of his "prepared piano" creation. Flanked by two cellists and two violinists, it was a truly lovely, haunting, expansive and simply beautiful set. We applauded him as he exited the bar a few hours after he finished playing, and smiling and gracious, he headed out into a freezing Chicago evening decorated with delicate shakes of snow.

photo from here

gorbachev

2008-11-16T08:08:00.001-08:00

The Onion's "Many Disguises of Barack Obama."

Next to "Illegal Immigrants moving back to Mexico for American Jobs." awesomeeeee.

Speaking of which, seriously considering quitting mine. The uniform is truly soul-destroying. Yesterday I was told to button my very top button, (the hardest button to button, wuh-oh), and that my oxford shirt wasn't "regulation oxford," whatever the fuck that means. Also, the THIRD person in as many days was fired for showing up to work drunk/reeking of alcohol. At 10 am. really??? They're dropping like flies. It's comedy hour in there. Another was fired for referring to the Puerto Rican and black guy as "you people" and proclaiming that black people use their skin color as a "crutch" while discussing Obama's win. wowwwwwwwwee.

Saw the Justice tour rockumentary Friday night (A Cross the Universe), which was, appropriately, full of nothing more than behind-the-scenes profligate boozing, drugging, and sexing (featuring a particularly cringeworthy cameo with some vapid chick from Kansas), interspersed with crowd shots. Unless I missed something. My sobriety was questionable.

It's Sunday, it's sunny, it's newspaper in bed time.

houston's too humid, tell me more about that died thing.

2008-11-13T19:25:00.000-08:00

Well, i've begun gainful employment (again). i quit that last job about a week after i began -- all the managers were sweaty, nervous cokeheads who sported pinkie rings (not the hot kind) and heavy layers of hair product, about 3% of the 7,000 servers were remotely cool, and the tips were shit. oh yeah, and i had to wear a multi-colored vest. yes, that vest weighed heavily in my decision to quit.

My new job is at a fancy-schmancy restaurant on Michigan Avenue, which means holidays + mad rich people + shoppers = hopefully some wicked good tipz. Major drawback: I have to wear khakis and a necktie. Not a piano key necktie (shown) (wait, that would be awesome), but ... still. I've never had to wear a necktie in my life, i have no idea how to tie one, and I haven't worn khakis since the 8th grade. Ugh. The only reason I've consented to this sartorial sadism is because I know I'm leaving for California in two months and can deal with a shitty work uniform if there's an end in sight, plus getting a job is like NIGH IMPOSSIBLE right now. (help, obama!)

so for the past week, i've had to endure training sessions involving a litany of possibly the most inane questions i have ever heard:

"i know the restaurant has just gone through a lot of changes with the refurbishment, but if a customer asks for, say, cream cheese on the side, are we still allowed to do that?"

"i've heard a lot of talk about oxford shirts, now can we discuss what actually constitutes an oxford shirt? i mean, i've heard pocket-talk too. what are we talking, here? one pocket? two pockets?"

"Can our khakis be bell-bottomed?"

"How many strawberries come on the pancakes? The menu says banana or strawberry smoothie -- what if a customer wants both? Can we do that?"

EVERY SINGLE PERMUTATION OF RETARDATION WAS ASKED, no joke. "What's the name of the farmer who grows the oranges we use in the orange juice?" I whispered to the girl next to me, whose blackberry wallpaper is set to the above photo, and therefore my new best friend.

Anyway, in the "dress rehearsal" today I was told I'd have to pin my bangs back and come back tomorrow "looking slightly more..." the manager trailed off. "Corporate?" I offered. "Put-together. Erm...ironed. Crisp."

Awesome.

too busy drinking to come to the phone

2008-11-10T20:59:00.000-08:00

oh, hello, you.

sorry, i've been a bit Mathangi Arulpragasm for the past week. I was a bit busy drinking and cavorting with various friends and plaid-shirted, tattooed boys. What the hell was I even doing all week?

*Discovered dark new watering holes within walking distance of my front door (joy of joys!).

*Saw Gang Gang Dance give a shiver-me-timbers rad-ass performance at the Empty Bottle, ie my newfound home, thanks to the glorious 80/20 plaid-shirted, scruffy-haired and bearded male to female ratio, gohhhhhhh.

*Rang in a new president, a new future, YES WE CAN CHANGE, among a waterfall of free tequila shots in a dark biker bar

*had my favorite Beatles song played for me on a Logan Square jukebox (it's "Honeypie," in case anyone out there wants to make me very giddy in bar someday)

*had an unbelievably intimidating goth chick clad in nothing but scary cat's eye contacts, a bra, underwear, fishnets, and those freakydeaky 8-inch thick industrial boots rub up against me in a goth club at 3 am -- an experience that quickly turned from entertaining to violating as she gave me creepy vampire eyes and sashayed her way over to me, arms all a-waving, eye contact unwavering, rubbing her naked sweaty body against my drunk one. I think she mis-judged my inebriated inability to properly focus as making eye contact with her. "Kirsten..." I pawed at my drunker, otherwise occupied friend after a few minutes of dance-floor molestation. "KIRSTEN. KIRSTEN. YOU. NEED. TO. HELP. ME. NOW. FORREALS. NOW." She hopped to just in time, pulling me away just as I had a fishnetted bum backing up into my crotch, arms still all a-waving like Jim Carrey in the restaurant scene in Dumb & Dumber as he waddles up to the pizissssed Asian chef.

(zexxy photo from mauro, via syntheticpubes)

*various other things keeping me from serenading you, dear loyal readers. A wholehearted "my bad," with promises for a better blogging week ahead, with stories from my new job(s) (FINAFUCKINGLY) to come.

KNOCKING FOR CHANGE

2008-11-03T08:17:00.000-08:00

The breathtaking panoramic vistas of Gary.

Kirsten & i crossed state borders yesterday for Change. Beaten down by MoveOn.orgs' seventeen thousand daily emails, we got our ass into gear (a false sign-up for the day after Halloween was switched to Sunday once the hangover made it well apparent we were in no state to knock on doors all day) and zipped along on the expressway and landed in the unbelievably economically depressed city of Gary, Indiana to canvass for Change.

We waited in line for Change, we received a brief training session for Change, we got Obama pins for Change, and then we headed out to the most run-down community I've ever witnessed -- not that I've knocked on the doors of Cabrini Green, but this was blocks upon blocks of boarded up and semi-abandoned houses and crack dens, with a few family homes sprinkled in between. We knocked on around 70 doors, urging people to vote early and giving out information on where and how to vote. For the most part, just mentioning Obama's name brought smiles to understandably suspicious faces (What are these two blonde, white, cheerful chicks doing on my doorstep?).

It was fun, and rather invigorating and inspiring, despite the run-down neighborhood and the pregnant lady who warned from her doorstep "You girls should be careful, there was a shooting up the block from here just last night." Uh, thanks. Apart from slipping voter registration envelopes under doors in London with meg, i'd never canvassed before. We ended most exchanges by chirping "Happy Obama Day!" which people seemed to dig.

"Naw, I didn't vote for Obama, I voted for elvis PRESLEY." yelled one man from his living room.

"I've gotten 20 calls, 15 emails, and about 12 knocks on my door from you people already," my face begins to fall at this point, yet he continues "and boy am I glad to see you again. I'm grateful to everyone who's trying to turn this red state blue!" His pants were unzipped, his shirt unbuttoned, and his suspenders crooked, but that goofy old man made my day.

"Happy Obama Day!"

tetrahedronal

2008-11-02T08:13:00.000-08:00

HAPPY TETRIS-OWEEN TO YOU.

Despite being mistaken for Rubik's cubes for half the night, it was quite the popular costume, I must say, and rife for party stranger sexy innuendo ("Now you just need a green piece to fit into you." slurs the Irishman). Not pictured: we walked around playing the Tetris theme-song all night, mini-ipod-speakers hidden in Kirsten's splendiferous rack.

your teeth...are completely flaccid.

2008-10-31T11:34:00.000-07:00

ah, the burn of flaccid teeth after a great date -- Les Savy Fav's Tim Harringon & Kristen Schaal try to keep it slutty, vampirically:

put your circuits in the sea

2008-10-29T18:18:00.000-07:00

my bed is my boat

2008-10-29T09:17:00.000-07:00

love on the serpentine. ("ah wawnt that.")
peeking out from kensington gardens

CLOTTED CREAM.

a moment before i snapped this, the squirrel was sitting on that boy's lap, to which my mom fiercely whispered "rhhhhaaaaabieeeees."

numbers are declining

2008-10-28T12:03:00.000-07:00

a tumblr with a delightfully sinister twist of schadenfreude -- "THE BROKERS WITH HANDS ON THEIR FACES BLOG." kind of says it all.

air war

2008-10-27T11:51:00.000-07:00

fuuuuuuuck yes. my personal favorites, Crystal Castles @ the metro, saturday nite.

the warnings for epileptics were no joke, lead singer alice screamed her way into a strobe-lit fit as she carried a pulsing globe-strobe around on stage with her, thick eyeliner ricocheting off the whites of her eyes. indeterminable lyrics, gameboy bleeps, thrashing sonic video game blasts, the metro was converted into a freaky-deaky supermario episode where overalls and worker hats were replaced with hoodies, torn tights and converse, gold coins replaced with smash laser strobe light effects.

a delightful surprise was the opener, Lymbyc System, a post-rock electronic outfit that's a just-right-Goldilocks cross between Panda Bear, some of the lighter Fridge tracks and some of the less ambient, more layered Last Days. Some free Lymbyc downloads here.

sharp threats from dark lips

2008-10-22T15:12:00.000-07:00

early morning, london, my flat
late nite, london, hoxton square, cellist photo shoot spotted from the street

ffffound

2008-10-22T09:09:00.000-07:00

in a book at the tate modern.

everybody! get together!

2008-10-20T08:32:00.000-07:00

so i finally broke down and spent the $13 on a camera card reader, so welcome to a massive back-log of photos from london & happy current timez in chicago. whee.

why yes, i'll take my pbr in a personal pitcher, thank you, ms. kirsten.

quenchers pub, offering surprisingly non-mediocre live acts and beer from around the world -- NAMIBIAN BEERS? sign me right up. then it was across the street to the mutiny for some live punk metal band, middle-aged men sweating out covers of black sabbath & iron maiden, the bassist sporting a freaky-deaky-awesome lucha libre mask.

i was brought into the fray by a sweaty blonde-bearded gentleman, forced to dance & twirl.

below: one of the loveliest sundays in recent memory, spent at brunch at Earwax, thriftin', and taking a massively hungover bike ride crunching through the autumnal delight of the city.

now that's some effective advertising. i am looking up this band RIGHT QUICK.

flesh projections

2008-10-18T12:49:00.000-07:00

now here's a technique i haven't come across yet -- mapping projections of landscapes onto the naked form. i love, i love, i love. via syntheticpubes, ms. elle milla. her flickr here, her weblog here.

typographical love for That One

2008-10-17T09:51:00.000-07:00

Jonathan Hoefler's first all-typographical poster for the Artists for Obama collection, rather beautifully rendered, I think. His design perfectly captures the goosebumps that creep to the surface of my skin when I read the unassuming power of that particular Obama sound byte.

Wonderful Robert Indiana's contemporary twist on his iconic Love sculpture/prints.

All and more here.

paging doctor house

2008-10-15T15:11:00.000-07:00

Dupli Casa in Germany (first two photos) and Sculp(IT)'s "narrowest house in Antwerp" (bottom two) makes me wish that I was even the slightest bit competent in math or drafting so that I could have had a shot at making Architecture a viable occupational option. Instead, I'll just look at the pretty photos and sigh. Bathtub on a rooftop!! Gimme.

also

2008-10-14T20:44:00.000-07:00

i can't remember where the hell i found this but i've had it saved on my desktop forever and it makes me giggle every day. la creme de la creme of foreign signage.

in a forest pitch dark

2008-10-14T18:29:00.000-07:00

currently holding my breath for october 20th, when One Little Indian releases a new Bjork single Nattura with thom yorke on backing vocals. and the whole indie electronic world explodes into collaborative ectasy.

Nattura's name comes from nattura.info, an icelandic environmental movement. an interesting, if somewhat disjointed, green manifesto from bjork here.