I Could Use A Little Turning

It was all so innocent then-- skirts too short, lipstick too red. Back when MTV set a mood, rather than displayed a hot tub stereotype. These days, I actually understand what these songs are talking about. But then, I felt I understood feelings and words I was years away from experiencing. Although I guess I've never been in an R&B troupe, or had a boyfriend who drove a Bentley...

I am pretty sure, though, I uttered the words "I put that on my life" to a boyfriend once-- in his black Nissan 240SX, with a sunroof. Oh Foxy, once upon a time you were our lackluster Britney-- raw, truthful, and a soundtrack to my teenage naivety.

When It's All Happening, You're Bound To Get The Summertime Flu

I've had an amazing couple of weeks. Ok, months. Wait, years?

But yesterday was NOT fun. After quite the epic Sunday, definitely got home around 1:30 in the afternoon on Monday after waking up in the blazing dusty swirl of sunshine on a friend's couch in Greenpoint. Somewhere between Simian Mobile Disco's dance inertia and drinks in styrofoam cups bought by members of a certain Brooklyn band, I lost my head. 

Nothing like waking up to another month of self-proclaimed sobriety with the worst hangover of all time. Which, in turn, has become some sort of monster cold. Now, I'd like to take a moment to thank Jesus for coconut water and dance beats to get me through my days of irresponsibility... Thanks for lookin' out, kiddo!

You know I LOVES it!

It's All Happening

Me & Lauren were in touching distance of Mr. S. Carter during this performance, and both got teary eyed. Such gays we are...

Una Solución Para el Insomnio, Por Favor

I took a nap yesterday for the first time in months. This is the sort of accidental happening that only occurs out of utter exhaustion, and ends in my being cranky for the rest of the day. Instead of waking up refreshed and revitalized, I wake up swinging.

I haven't been able to sleep during the day ever since I was a child. My worked to the bone mother trying to put me down for some sunlit rest, buying herself time to carelessly flip through a Vanity Fair. And instead, I'd throw a fit- hopelessly and unconsciously worried that I'd be missing something.

I still have trouble sleeping, no matter the time of day/night. Laying awake with the fan circling dreams that I won't remember over my head, wondering what I could possibly be missing (in New York the probability is that you're missing something every second of the day) until I fall into a restless slumber- finally. Only to sleep through my alarm, miss brunch with a friend from out of town, push back a deadline, and be stuck doing laundry until my next obligation.

If you're interested in what exhausts me so, take a looksy here and here.

In other news, and hence the seemingly unrelated photo above, I'm looking for a new apartment. 2-3 bedroom, dog friendly, a loft around the Morgan L stop would be ideal (since I love my 'hood). If I don't find the perfect place, I'm seriously considering moving to Mexico (no joke). Adios! 

This Guns for Hire

I decided I'm gonna start writing here again. Who better than to kick off that party than Mr bruce Bruce himself!?

I guess once upon a time the ladies thought he was sexy. This always creeped me out because he looks a lot like my uncle. And that guy's an alcoholic...

Anyway, it's good to be back-- all self-obsessed and stuff once more.

Consciousness Fix

During your interaction today notice how often your responses are reactions. When a friend tells you something they did or how they are feeling, notice how automatically certain comments come off your tongue. These are programmed responses.

Today, if people have difficulty connecting with you, perhaps you need to retool your programming.

Story of my life, y'all. Thanks Kabbalah for constantly reminding me what a piece of shit I am...

Funniest Thing I've Seen All Day? Week?

Asian Invasion Finale

Last night, after the most delicious scallion pancake ever, I crossed the Wburg Bridge to check out Tokyo! at the Sunshine on Houston. Michel Gondry did a little introduction for the film, being 1/3 of the equation of this portrait of a city. I love how magically confused he seems at all times. It's all about the focus on the subtleties of life, and Mr. Gondry tells us how the most inspiring thing about this wonderous city on the island of Japan was the 'lack of the shyness to sleep on one another on the train', and also his realization that in comparison people walk like horses here in America.

Gondry via iPhone

(SPOILER ALERT)

In his 30 minutes of Tokyo, Gondry's Interior Design depicts a girl who is very much like the buildings in the city, one never touching the other. Her transformation into a useful being touches upon a sort of butterfly in reverse ideal. Gondry's vision can only be explained by what my mother calls fantasia (read: with adorable Polish accent). 

Leos Carax's Merde, with all its apocalyptic flare, kind of missed the mark for me. Although entertained by Mr. Merde's crazed gait, a Delicatessen-esque entrance into the world, and his slap-stick gibberish, Carax fell short of allowing us to sympathize with this literally misunderstood villain-- leaving me unmoved by his death sentence. But I will admit that I am looking forward to the New York edition.

And finally, what I believe to be the most affecting story told within the triad-- South Korea's Bong Joon-ho with Shaking Tokyo. Ok, so I happen to be a sucker for low dialogue loner romances, which I'm gonna go ahead and blame on my feminine nether-regions, but precision camera movement acts as an ethereal invitation into the world of a hikikomori in this tale of seclusion and rebirth. Moved by the fainted beauty of an innocently risque pizza girl, this man's emergence into the blinding sunlight put an approving smirk upon my jaded New York lips. 

Who Wants To Be In My Band?

Hats off to Pitchfork for making my night.

Um, did I write this?

Sadly, no.

But I should've--I would've even made it to the show, as I was desperately seeking ticket. I'm so bummed, I could just blog about it. And I thought I was the only one that wanted to bone him!? Although sometimes people can just go too far with their comments: 

you guys, NO. he is THIRTY SIX. THIRTY SIX YEARS OLD with that haircut.

I will forever defend boys with big noses and bangs. FOREVER!