Fires are sad

There was just a big fire in an apartment building across the street from me. Watching people being evacuated has me hung up on the question of what I would save if I were escaping a fire. I saw people climbing down the ladders with all sorts of things... laptop cases, pets, blankets... considering how bad the smoke was, it's a wonder people had time to grab anything at all. And not everyone was that lucky - one of the older tenants couldn't make it out on her own and tragically passed away before the rescue team could find her. People like to talk about grabbing photo albums, etc., but really? When there's smoke and you can hardly breathe, are you thinking about your baby photos or are you thinking about getting the hell out of there before you die? If I still had my cat, I think she'd be the only thing I would even have the impulse to save. Maybe I'd have time to throw my purse over my shoulder. A lot of people today didn't even have the time to grab a coat, and it's barely over 40 degrees. I think in a genuine life or death situation you have to sacrifice the romanticized concept of rapidly evaluating what material things are most important to you. You just run. That said, it was pretty tragic walking by after the fire had been put out and seeing the piles of wet, charred belongings lying in the street and on the sidewalk. There was a Hello Kitty backpack in the mess and seeing that made me tear up. I had to remind myself that whatever kid that belonged to had made it out alive, and that is really the most important thing.

Feminist Rant

I just finished watching Funny Face for the millionth time, and it is finally starting to bother me. It's a seriously tragic movie - talk about setting back the women's movement! Moral of the story is: so long as a girl sacrifices any intellectual pursuit and willingly follows a persuasive and powerful man, she'll be able to find happiness. Duhhhh. Oh, and all intellectuals are suspect and/or borderline retarded, so don't listen to anything they might have to say. I honestly wonder how it's possible that Audrey Hepburn was willing to take a role in which she fulfilled her destiny by giving up her lifelong fascination with philosophy to pose in front of a man's camera in fancy clothes. When she cries during the wedding dress photo shoot because, as she says, "it's not really the happiest day of my life," you know she's gone round the bend. The happiest day of your life was supposed to be the day you discussed "empathicalism" with a world-famous philosophy professor, ya dumb ho, not your wedding day! But of course, that world famous philosophy professor turns out to be a lecherous creep, so scratch that. You didn't need those books anyway! Bah!


And barring all of that, it's a lovely film and I watch it all the time. The end.

I can haz lolspeak?

I was unaware until tonight that lolspeak is now an official language. Or at least, official enough for Flickr. So, every time you log into Flickr, they teach you how to say hello in a different language. For example, "Hola, ----! Now you know how to greet people in Spanish!" But tonight I logged in and saw:

O HAI Jaymar!!

Now you know how to greet people in Lolspeak!

Wow. Just wow.

It's Christmastime (and bedtime!)

I am a little drunk. We just sang 'O Come All Ye Faithful' (as Adestes Fidelis in the original Latin, courtesy of one Peter Noble) and 'O Holy Night' back-to-back at karaoke. It's almost like I've found Christ. Ashley and I fell down on the stairs and my knee is bleeding through my tights. Also, my elbow hurts a lot. It would be pretty cool if Brian would hurry up and get back to San Francisco. How did I end up in a cab? I love you all (probably).

I love Christmas music

... and not just because it's trendy to like "uncool" things in an ironic fashion. No. I just really, really love Christmas music. In fact, the more traditional, the better. Give me Bing Crosby or Nat King Cole or even the Mormon Tabernacle Choir any day. Give me Adestes Fidelis in the original Latin and all the other Jesus-y ones about virgins and bright stars. (Let's temporarily ignore the fact that I am not even remotely Christian.) However, perhaps my very favorite song is a little ditty called "Christmastime is Here," as rendered by the ever-wonderful Vince Guaraldi and his dandy crew. Straight out of the Peanuts Christmas, with angelic singing children and everything, this one almost makes me weep. It almost makes you forget that Walmart employees are being trampled in the seasonal sale mayhem, and that men are shooting each other in the checkout lines at Toys R Us... almost. So listen to it. In the meantime, I'm off to karaoke to sing Feliz Navidad, much to the dismay of the other patrons. Tis the season.

COLD STEEL, BITCHES!

Today, whilst unable to pry myself out of the 1012 armchair, I was introduced to the world of Cold Steel weaponry. Over the course of almost an hour, I bore witness to several middle aged men flaunting their knife-wielding prowess by hacking apart ship mooring cables, bamboo poles, watermelons, car doors, hunks of beef brisket, and - wait for it - whole pig carcasses. And they don't limit themselves to mere knives. No, they branch out into axes, blowguns, swords, and war clubs. You might ask, Where has this been all my life? Indeed, I asked myself the same thing while reading the copy from the company's catalog. Lovely phrases such as "emergency bludgeon," "pulverize your target," and "crush bones like dry twigs and pulp flesh into jelly" abound. These guys aren't fucking around! One brief excerpt: "Look smart and feel secure anywhere with our personal grooming aid, the Honey Comb. Precision manufactured at great expense, it has the innocuous appearance of a simple hairbrush, but the fully functional brush also acts as a sheath that conceals a highly effective stiletto dagger!" And for so long I'd been carrying around an unsheathed stiletto dagger. What was I thinking?

But the videos really are the best part. Not only is the acting top-notch, but nothing beats a grown man chopping tirelessly at inanimate objects and hunks of bloody animal flesh. Seriously, guys - they cut that whole pig carcass into several cross-sectioned slices with a sword. Then there was the skinned (yes, skinned) horse head that was repeatedly stabbed with a dagger. And did I mention that most of this is set to the chugging rhythm of a manly metal guitar? Well... it is.

I still like house parties

So I got hired today...

Little did I know that Laser Eyes was in dire need of an official Laser Eyes girl. And here I've been wasting my time of Craigslist. What was I thinking?

Julia: I need a job.
Cole: Actually, Laser Eyes is going to need a Laser Eyes girl.
Julia: How much are you paying?
Cole: 45k a year.
Julia: I'll take it.
Cole: So... it's going to be about 2 nights a month... just have to look hot and come to our shows... and wear our t shirts.
Julia: When is your first show? You guys don't even have any songs.
Cole: We are going to make them all tonight.
Julia: From where are you generating my 45 k?
Cole: CD sales... and my design job... and Deli's art job.
Julia: I don't see you selling any CDs.
Cole: They will start selling... chill the fuck out or you are fired.
Julia: Lol!
Cole: Come to our shows... look like a babe... to get people to come... get babes hyped about us... so they want to do us... and wear our shirts. That's it. 45k. So when you start doing that stuff...we will give you your first pay check.
Julia: Do you have a Laser Eyes logo?
Cole: Nope. We will get one... prolly tonight. Tonight we are making everything. So you can take the night off.
Julia: Good, cause I'm going to see Vivian Girls play.
Cole: Pshh.. if we were playing you would have to skip that shit.

Looks like my new job will be demanding, yet lucrative. Wish me luck!

I can't believe I get paid for this:

Thanks, Gama Go!
All photos by Christina James

Dear Dolores Park,

I <3 you.

Sincerely,
Julia

Field trip to Barney's

Well. Today I made my first ever purchase from the SF outpost of Barney's NY. I have never before been surrounded by so many well-dressed gay men (sorry, Castro, not even you can compare). Nor have I ever been surrounded by so many fussy, confused Europeans. Seriously, just pick out a tie. Do you really need to sales associate to help determine your taste in neckwear? Actual quote: "We are looking for something fun... but not TOO fun." No. Just look at the ties until you see one you like and then pay the $250 on it and be on your way.

Needless to say, I was not purchasing ties. Just jeans and a dramatically marked-down t-shirt. The jeans had been budgeted for, but not the t-shirt, so this took some serious financial consideration on my part. I definitely don't fit into the typical demographic that frequents Barney's.

Sales associate: Would you like to take the t-shirt as well?
Me (fumbling with my phone, trying to connect to mobile banking): Um, lemme just check my bank account first...

Eventually I caved. It has feathers on it. C'mon. How could I pass? And as for the jeans, in my defense, I tried to get the old ones fixed, and was told that the four (not one, but FOUR) massive holes in the crotch were essentially irreparable. Sigh. And unfortunately, I'm a denim snob. J BRANDS 4 LYFE. If you see me out tonight, I will most likely be wearing my new things. Now that is an exciting prospect.

Preserve the Sanctity of San Francisco Bars

I know that Prop 8 has been the latest political buzz (short of the Presidential election, that is), and even after its passage (excuse me while I quietly vomit) there is still a lot of energy being funneled into the fight to have it repealed. Not to mention a lot of continued ranting from its supporters about the bible, and love between a man and a woman, and the sanctity of marriage. But I'm tired of this bullshit. Right now, as a young person trying to socialize in a big city, I am more deeply and immediately concerned with the sanctity of our bar scene. What is happening to our beloved bars? Why the overwhelming and seemingly unstoppable tide of douche bags? It's disgusting, it's unnatural, and it paves the way for the allowance of all sorts of unsavory entities in our bars. If we start with douche bags, what's next? Giraffes? Robots? People over 50? Please. We don't want these characters tainting our pure and beautiful bars. We can't have our children growing up thinking it's acceptable to enter any San Francisco bar wearing a pink striped shirt, baggy jeans, and dress shoes, with gel in their hair and five bros in their wake. Do you want YOUR children thinking it's okay to yell mindlessly every time a Journey song comes on the juke box? No. You don't. Which is why we need to get Prop D (D for douche bag, obviously) on the ballot. If you're interested in safeguarding San Francisco's sacred bar scene and protecting really cool hipsters from unnecessary disturbance in their natural habitat, sign up now to canvas and gather signatures for Prop D today. Your children with thank you.

Hurrah!

So, one of the most incredible life experiences I've had the courtesy of..... well, experiencing, has now come to a close, and I am thus left with an impossible amount of free time and the immediate need for increased income, a.k.a. a new job. Seeing as how Obama hasn't yet called me to be his Deputy White House Communications Director (and considering that, even if he had, I'd be fired for general rebellion so fast it would make your head spin), I am forced back to the drudgery of searching Craigslist for a day job that doesn't make me want to cut open a vein. Good luck with that, right?

In any case, while I take a few days to recover from the nearly nonstop work that was the last couple of months of my life, I also want to take a moment to appreciate what I was just involved in, and sort of wrap things up in the face of everyone's consolations regarding the fact that we "lost." So let me just dispute their use of the word "lost." Cindy Sheehan got more votes than any independent candidate ever has in San Francisco's Congressional race. And we decreased Pelosi's victory margin by a greater degree than any other candidate ever has since Pelosi first took office. If that's not an enormous step for independent (or even Third Party) candidates, then I don't know what is. And when the whole campaign, Cindy included, danced on the steps of City Hall at 8pm on November 4th, it felt like a win. So in my mind, even though Cindy is (sadly) not on her way to Washington (yet), it was a win. But thanks for the words of consolation, anyhow.

And suffice it to say, I'm still feeling pretty amped-up from the campaign, so if you have any direct actions coming up, any awesome political candidates starting their campaigns, any socially conscious organizations getting off the ground, or what have you... call me up.

Hate to say I told you so...

...but I told you so. Less than 24 hours after becoming the president-elect, Obama was already swinging to the right. His appointment of Rahm Emanuel as Chief of Staff should speak for itself, but since most people don't seem to know who he is, I guess I'll do a little speaking on the subject, myself. Perhaps this puts a damper on everyone's juvenile joy in their belief that Obama's election is suddenly going to bring peace to the world, but sorry. Emanuel, a rabidly pro-Israel, free-trade-happy, militaristic individual, will soon be filling what is arguably the most powerful position in the White House, aside from the President.

This is the man who wrote a letter to President Bush saying that Israel's policy of assassinating Palestinian political leaders "was clearly justified as an application of Israel's right to self-defense" ("Pelosi supports Israel's attacks on Hamas group," San Francisco Chronicle, 14 June 2003). The man who eagerly supports NAFTA, the World Bank, and increased corporate globalization. The man who, as Chairman of the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee, halted all funding for openly anti-war Democrats running for the House, and even supported more centrist candidates in the primaries, in an effort to defeat those anti-war candidates. The man who served on the board of the mortgage giant Freddie Mac, which had to be nationalized in the bailout this year, due to its utter financial failure.

This is the man who will have the ear of the President for the next four years. Hooray. So if you went into the November 4th election dreaming of change on the foreign policy front, the economic front, the "Party Politics" front, or really any front at all... I'm sorry, but I doubt you're going to get it. Change we can believe in, my ass.

And this, by the way, is why I voted for Cynthia McKinney. Just saying.

Politics + writing = White House Deputy Communications Director. Duh.

After the past several weeks of working on a political campaign, in conjunction with far too many hours spent watching The West Wing, has me thinking that maybe, just maybe, I'd like to be the White House Deputy Communications Director. You know, someday. For a really awesome president.

See, about a week ago, I was pulled aside in the office by our campaign manager and asked to bang out a summary of our energy policy. Considering we had at no point even drafted an official energy policy statement, this task was a little more daunting than it may sound. Suffice to say, it was intimidating, incredibly difficult, and very, very fun. So maybe if every day I spend working could be like that - putting important decisions with wide-reaching impact into writing - from now on, well...I'd be pleased.

And I <3 Sam Seaborne.

Eloise

For those who don't already know, my dearest Eloise, my favorite creature in the world, had to be put to sleep on Wednesday afternoon after a brief fight with liver disease, pancreatitis, and acute pneumonia. So this is in her honor. Thanks for being the best cat ever, Eloise, and thanks for being mine.

This is morbidly fascinating

Wikipedia features an entire "List of unusual deaths," including the likes of:
- the dancer Isadora Duncan, who died of accidental strangulation and a broken neck when one of her signature long scarves got caught on the wheel of a car in which she was riding shotgun...

-Robert Williams, a worker at the Ford Motor Company plant, who became the first known man to be killed by a robot...
-Jennifer Strange, a 28-year-old woman from Sacramento, who died of water intoxication while trying to win a Wii console in a KDND107.9 "The End" radio station's "Hold Your Wee for a Wii" contest, which involved drinking large quantities of water without urinating...
-and so many more. Go look at it. It'll probably entertain you for at least 10 minutes. And that's better than 0 minutes.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_unusual_deaths

Mike Giant at White Walls

I will be the first to admit that going to an opening at White Walls tends to be a mostly irritating experience. Too many kids looking at each other instead of the art and leaving bottles all over the street. Oh well. Tonight, I'm setting aside my aversion to catch the Mike Giant show, which proves to be awesome. If I had thousands of extra dollars lying around - and I know it's hard to believe that I don't - my walls would certainly be sporting some of these. Can't wait.

Caribou Barbie

I know there has been much to-do regarding the addition of Sarah Palin to the McCain presidential ticket. Most likely, if you know me at all or ever read my blog, you can already guess what I think of her. Suffice to say, she scares the shit out of me. However, though I might laugh as gleefully as the next person every time I see another picture (photo-shopped or otherwise) of the VP candidate in stars n' stripes bikinis, etc., I have to agree with some critics that the unnecessary focus on her looks/pageant past/potential sex appeal could be read as highly counter to feminist rhetoric. Don't get me wrong- I still feel a surge of hatred every time I hear much of anything come out of her mouth - but do we really need to be focusing so much on whether or not she's just a GOP wet dream? Now, one could argue that even her own words tend to draw attention to this: her attempt to differentiate herself from a pitbull via her use of lipstick is an interesting example. But honestly, this is not the way to get taken seriously in our critique of her stances. I know her selection was an attempt at pandering to lost Hilary supporters and women who just desperately want to see (apparently any) woman in a position of national political power. So instead of using her gender as a basis for detrimental remarks, shouldn't we be focusing on the issues?

That said, I still love calling her Caribou Barbie. Heh.

And for god's sake, what the fuck is up with this picture?

At last night's campaign volunteer meeting, this happened:

(In the midst of the post-meeting melee...)

Tom: Hey! Do you know who's in charge of high school outreach?

Me: No. I don't think that was ever established.

(Pause)

Me: I guess I am?

Tom: Ok, good. Go talk to that kid. Give him your info.

(I scribble my name and email address on the back of a business card while approaching said kid.)

Me: Hi there, I'm Julia, and I'm the high school outreach coordinator. We'd love to help you organize an assembly on campus...

I'm so pro.

I still want my life to be like this every day.

"A grown-up job" or, "Cindy for Congress!"

For those who don't already know, Monday will be my first day working for Cindy Sheehan's Congressional campaign. If you don't know who Cindy Sheehan is, for shame! Perhaps best known for her extended protest outside President Bush's Texas ranch after the death of her son in the Iraq war, she announced her intent to run against she-devil/Speaker of the House, Nancy Pelosi, after Pelosi failed to introduce articles of impeachment. (And seriously, what else did we elect her for?) Now that intent is finally coming to fruition with an honest-to-goodness campaign - a campaign of which I get to be a part! I'm finally putting the B.A. to work, meaning my dad didn't necessarily waste thousands of dollars after all, and I think we can all raise our glasses to that, my friends.

p.s. If you want any of the following - affordable housing, quality health care, efficient and environmentally friendly public transit, an end to the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, a solution to the immigration problem, and for Bush to go suck one - then you had better get your ass out to vote for Cindy on the first Tuesday in November. Okay? Okay.

And here she is getting arrested in D.C.! My kind of candidate.

"Scary Leftist Groups" launch "attack" on Griff Jenkins in DNC "Riots"

Thief!

So.... the book was still there on Friday. So I took it. I'll let you know how awesome it was when I'm done. Unless I'm too busy training manatees at that point, in which case, I might not have time to let you know. Also, I might be stuck down by a higher power as punishment for theft. If either happens.... sorry. But on a positive note: manatees are way cute.

Hey, you forgot your book.

A fellow tenant has left their book on the table in my building's laundry room:

I'm dying to know who it is. Maybe they can teach me too?

P.S.

I seriously wish I could do this.

And this.

Olympic pet peeves

1. The women's gymnastics uniforms. Is there are a good reason for those leotards to be cut so high on the hips? Other than the fact that it's fun to watch the girls pick them out of their butts as they walk back to their teammates? Maybe.
2. The fact that I can't stop watching. And there are all these things to do in my real life getting in the way of my watching.

Maybe that's it.

I CAN'T WAIT!

The Olympics are finally here, and I, as usual, will be spending a good deal of time posted up in front of my computer and/or television hoping to catch every meager scrap of coverage of the equestrian events - in particular, the show jumping. We managed the individual and team silver medals in Athens (the team medal was later boosted to gold based on much-disputed drug charges against Germany's gold medal team), so hopefully we can do that - or better! - this time around in Beijing. Our team kicks ass this year, and even though I'm pretty sure almost no one else cares, I'm excited! But it sure makes me miss this sport. :(

Beezie Madden riding Authentic


McLain Ward riding Sapphire


Laura Kraut riding Cedric


Will Simpson riding El Campeon's Carlsson vom Dach

I am debating

a Nietzschean reading of Kung Fu Hustle. The violent and ultimately triumphant rise of a proudly modest lower class in the face of terrorizing, non-governmental, upper-class power? Whose side would he be on? Maybe this will be my dissertation. 

p.s. I just bought it, so come watch it with me.

Tonight!

PLUS

Champagne truffles

are really tasty, but they will make you sick if you eat too many of them.

The champagne truffles in question were provided by a regular customer at the card store who felt guilty for making fun of my purple tights last week. He thought the chocolate would assist in making amends. He was correct.

California is on Fire

Apparently.

842 fires burning right now between Big Sur and Humboldt County. 19,000 acres are burning in Mendocino County alone, spread over 71 active fires. Then there are 9,000 acres burning in Lake County, in one massive blaze at Walker Ridge.

The level of smoke pollution right now in Northern California is a little bit ridiculous. Walking around Santa Rosa, I feel like I'm at a bonfire. In terms of particulate matter, the air quality is worse than L.A. on a bad day, or so says the Press Democrat. Smoke-sensitive folks (read: asthmatics, read: me) were advised to leave the county, or at the very least, stay inside as much as possible. There go my drive-North-to-the-river-and-swim plans. Instead, I am confined to coffee shops, etc. So sad.

This must be karma. I'm getting payback for my undeniable joy at having such a dry winter. I am so glad there are still people out there noble enough to become firefighters. Geez.