Quarter Life Crisis

Go to this on Thursday:

2010-06-28T14:49:00.001-07:00

My pal Ryan is the guest curator. So many good artists in one tiny space!

Andrew!

2010-06-28T12:52:00.000-07:00

So, Andrew is about to be 15 months. Walking is no longer a rarity, and he can say "kitty," "doggy," "moon," "cookie," and "juice." My mom also swears he once said "puppet," but the rest of us remain skeptical. He loves to go down the slide backwards, remains unamused by carousels, sometimes throws his dinner on the floor, is afraid of horses, and still adores cats. In other news, he is the cutest person who's ever lived.

My friend Joe started a blog and it's really fun:

2010-06-28T12:30:00.000-07:00

For my part, I'm currently desiring turntables, a Balmain dress, and of course, a show horse.

I still want to go to prom. Preferably several proms...

2010-05-23T15:01:00.000-07:00

... so I can wear all of these Valentino dresses from the Spring 2010 ready-to-wear show. Valentino has never especially caught my interest before, but all the crazy ruffles, drapes, and pleats in this collection are calling my name. Somehow these dresses manage to be both architectural and whimsical, which basically makes them perfect. This first one, in particular, should really be on my body:

Overheard at work:

2010-05-02T12:30:00.000-07:00

"I met him in Provincetown 'cause he was singing Billie Holiday at that bar where we had to show out butts to get in free."

Sometimes I love working in a restaurant.

The Ruby Suns are a band that I like.

2010-04-18T17:32:00.000-07:00

I played hooky from work last Monday so I could see the Ruby Suns play at Bottom of the Hill. Considering the fact that just about every mix CD I've made in the past year features at least one of their songs, missing this show was not an option. I will admit that I was initially a little disappointed by the new direction in which they seem to be headed on their latest release, Fight Softly, but I think my ears were simply tainted by a residual fondness for their last album, Sea Lion. I do miss the so-called "world music" vibe that they managed to pull off without a hint of cliche, but after witnessing their new line-up in action, I'm disinclined to write off their change in sound as a creative misstep, the way some other reviewers and critics have. Less commercially viable, I suppose, which is a bit ironic, considering the leanings of this new album towards a chilled-out/tripped-out Animal Collective-ish-ness that has become a rather commercially successful sound as of late. But I certainly wouldn't dismiss this as a mistake, as I've never been of the opinion that a band ought to stick with a particular sound just because it worked for them in the past.

In any case, the show itself was fantastic, and I didn't even have to be drunk to feel like dancing, despite the unpleasant crush that's customary at any sold-out BOTH show. The evening concluded around the time the sun was coming up, after the band had been given the truly San Francisco experience of sitting around drinking cheap beer in a friend's apartment, eating leftover pasta and playing with an endless ball of string while someone iPod DJ-ed in the living room. All told, almost as fun as this new single of theirs, which everyone should listen to, all the time, because it's delightful.

"You're doin' it wrong."

2010-01-13T16:10:00.000-08:00

I spent a solid afternoon reading Herbert Marcuse today:

"In the medium of technology, culture, politics, and the economy merge into an omnipresent system which swallows up or repulses all alternatives. The productivity and growth potential of this system stabilize the society and contain technical progress within the framework of domination."

In an appropriately ironic twist, whilst reading these thoughts on the fate of individuality in advanced societies, I received no fewer than 10 text messages and 50 instant messages online. I also received a number of emails directing me to, amongst other things, change my Flickr password, pay my cell phone bill, and check my bank statement, all of which I did. I browsed through Facebook. I downloaded some pirated albums. I organized my iPhoto albums. And I closed the afternoon with this sentence:

"There may be a need to keep alive the spark of utopia after all. Its function for us today is... to undermine the complacency that makes the intolerable tolerable."

Hmm.

Go to this!

2009-07-25T12:56:00.001-07:00

Very excited for this one... you should be too.

PLUS it's Cole's birthday at midnight, so once we close out Double Punch, the festivities will be moved to another location more suitable for escalating wildness. Get ready.

Morning after

2009-07-17T13:53:00.000-07:00

Am I falling over or am I dancing? I don't know. But thanks, Kayvon, for an evening of A-Trak, Theophilus London, and goddamn Popscene (I hate my life). In other news, A-Trak and Armand Van Helden just announced a new project called Duck Sauce. How could that not be good?

Daggers

2009-07-13T14:29:00.000-07:00

http://www.myspace.com/shadowdaggers

We are going to be so famous.
(I'm half kidding.)

Graaaaaaad school

2009-07-13T14:16:00.001-07:00

I am not even IN graduate school, and it is already sapping my energy. I haven't posted for almost 2 months because every ounce of written energy I possess is currently being channeled into the early stages of writing samples and statements of purpose for my applications. Just don't ask me what I'm writing about...

So my friends started a farm...

2009-05-22T23:38:00.000-07:00

It's called Sun Born Organics, and it's going to be amazing. Still in the planting/start-up phase, but just you wait. If I bail out of the city frequently this summer, that might be where you'll find me, frolicking with puppies and releasing ladybugs and spraying fish emulsion and planting tomatillo verde plants (like the one above). Duh. And if I'm lucky, maybe Mike and Damon will let me drive the truck. p.s. Check out the link under Places to Go, on your right.

Saturday in Brooklyn

2009-05-16T20:13:00.000-07:00

Apple cider donuts from the farmer's market

A rad t-shirt from Species by the Thousands at the Fort Greene Flea Market

Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaabyyyyyyyyyyy

A Date

2009-05-11T16:14:00.000-07:00

by Cole Marshall

Umm
I show up at your door with a box of chocolates and a bouquet of flowers...
then...
we eat french food...
then...
we go to the beach (we are both wearing bikinis)...
then...
we play frisbee...
then..
we take showers to get the sand off of us (in slow motion)...
then...
we eat klondike bars...
then...
I take you home...
then...
I go home...
then..
I think about all the mistakes I made on our "date"...
you down?

RAD.

2009-05-11T11:32:00.001-07:00

John Hodges from Sexton Blake, Ryan Biornstad from Junkface, and Shawn Glassford from Mr. Fredrick got together and made a really rad band and called it Starfucker, and they are playing a show with my pals, White Cloud, who are also rad, at Bottom of the Hill on June 23rd, and seeing as how this show is going to be amazing, you should all come with me. Seriously. The video is for "Rawnald Gregory Erickson the Second," off their debut album from Badman Recordings, and it's animated by Andrew Sloan, who is ALSO rad. This is almost too much radness for one post.

"How to Find True Love"

2009-05-10T23:50:00.000-07:00

by Joseph Manibusan

If I get a degree and a job teaching astronomy at a planetarium at a museum, I will meet babes who are like, "Oh wow he's so cute! He teaches little kids about space!"

And I will be like, "Let me tell you all about the theory of relativity and how it determines the movement of bodies in space."

"I'm interested in this!"

"You should be. It says that smaller masses fall into bigger masses, and I am much bigger than you."

"OMG I'M SO IN LOVE CAUSE YOU'RE SMART AND HANDSOME AND LIKE KIDS AND ARE WITTY. LET MY FATHER PAY FOR OUR WEDDING."

And I'll be like, "Cool, that's fine."

Saturday's itinerary...

2009-05-08T14:35:00.000-07:00

Put on the most hipster outfit I can comfortably contrive, much to Barbara's dismay when she comes to pick me up;
Drive down to Santa Cruz playing our new ultimate hyphy mix CDs (that I had to make because all the other CDs are in the river);
Get an acai bowl at Cafe Brazil;
Run across Mission Street and immediately eat gyros at Falafel of Santa Cruz (Barbara will climb behind the counter to make these for free);
Drive downtown and sit on the porch at Perg's for an extended period of time, drinking various iced beverages;
Drag Barbara into The Krate for records and Cardboard Spaceship to see if there's any good art on the walls;
Watch Barbara shop the sale at O'Neill;
Make Barbara watch me try on skinny jeans I can't afford at Jade;
Sit on the beach at Seabright and pretend we aren't encouraging premature aging and cancer;
Go to Charlie Hong Kong's (even though we aren't hungry at all) and eat delicious noodles;
Drive up to Stevenson Knoll on campus and get high before the drive home.

My grandpa is turning 86 soon.

2009-05-06T17:23:00.000-07:00

Tonight was good.

2009-05-05T02:51:00.000-07:00

I had a lot of Jell-O shots and am now in possession of more than one beer cozy. Also, I have stickers on my shirt.

Fracamama? Maybe you've heard of them...

2009-05-03T19:54:00.000-07:00

This is tomorrow night. Go, and witness the semi-retarded beauty that is the fixed gear bicycle.

Birds are dinosaurs, for reals.

2009-04-30T16:38:00.000-07:00

I get tired of arguing this point, in large part because I can't do it very well without notes and diagrams - I'm not really that smart or that cool. However, it comes up again and again; most recently, it came up when I tried to defend the sanctity of pigeons on the basis of their being dinosaurs (and this being, of course, a good reason for me to feed them my bread crumbs right from the table at a French bistro). My assertion of this point led to a good deal of head shaking and chuckling to the purpose of making me feel stupid. But no! I rested easy in my knowledge that I would soon be home and buried in my books and notes and papers and anatomical drawings, and thus appropriately armed, could write a largely-ignored blog post on the topic.

Any kid worth their salt in basic, vague dinosaur knowledge, knows about Archaeopteryx, the feathered, flighted dinosaur. It's long since been accepted that Archaeopteryx is a member of the clade Aviale due to its feathers: all birds have feathers; Archaeopteryx has feathers; Archaeopteryx is a bird. Since Archaeopteryx is clearly a member of Aviale, it's easy to do a cladistic analysis to see the relationship of living birds to dinosaurs, because we only need trace the higher taxanomic relationships of Archaeopteryx.

BTW: Cladistics refers to the use character hierarchies to establish groups with shared derived characters, illustrating the creation of new species from ancestral populations. These groups are called clades, which includes an ancestor and all of its descendants. A monophyletic clade is one that is evolved from a common ancestor - and living birds are in fact a monophyletic group. For some illustration of this crap, look at my handy little diagram (which, in addition to a couple of cladograms, also includes my annotated pigeon skeleton as a bonus).

So... Cladistically, if you follow the various diagnostic characteristics of Archaeopteryx, starting with the Archosauria (which includes crocodiles), all the way to the clade of Aviale (which includes modern birds), it shows that birds must, indeed, be members of the Dinosauria clade. Both birds and Archaeopteryx possess, 1) an antoribital opening on the skull, thus making them both members of the clade Archosauria, 2) a four-toed clawed foot, with symmetry around digit III, and digit I reduced, thus making them members of the clade Ornithodira (although digit I is rotated backwards in living birds, rather than lying alongside digit II), 3) three or more sacral vertebrate, a reorientation of the shoulder, reduction of the fourth finger in the hand, and a semi-perforate acetabulum, thus making making them members of the clade Dinosauria. Dinosauria = dinosaurs! Heyyyy-oooooh!

The conclusion: Archaeopteryx is placed within Aviale as well as Dinosauria, therefore birds must be a subset of Dinosauria. BAM.

Life isn't really like this...

2009-04-30T02:08:00.001-07:00

...but it should be. Gene Kelly, get into my life.

Mr. Hammond... the phones are working.

2009-04-17T13:02:00.000-07:00

Tonight at midnight, Clay Theater. If you aren't there, I'll presume you to have questionable taste in film.

Artistic collaborations

2009-04-16T00:25:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I go to bars and coffee shops with my friends. Sometimes we draw while we're there. Sometimes the drawings are awesome and I put them online.

Bears Love Accessories
w/ Ryan de la Hoz

Seafaring Gentleman
w/ Ryan de la Hoz

Brainbot and Friends
w/ Cole Marshall

The Saga of Julia and Leonardo DiCaprio
w/ Cole Marshall

Tomorrow night!

2009-04-09T18:34:00.000-07:00

Ryan de la Hoz, my dearest friend, who is currently sitting next to me drinking coffee (which he rarely does), curated this glorious show, which is opening tomorrow night at Double Punch in North Beach. You should all be there. It will be fun.

Deth P. Sun makes excellent art.

2009-04-09T16:37:00.001-07:00

I've been loosely following Deth P Sun's work for several years now, and every time I come back to it, I like it even better than before. Acrylic on wood, phenomenal use of color, a sword-wielding, questing cat from Oakland, wolves and ghosts and seals... DUH. There's some kind of epic narrative running through these pieces that I can't seem to get ahold of, but I love them just the same.

Prom? Prom.

2009-04-08T14:50:00.000-07:00

It's been awhile since my last prom. 7 years, actually. But every spring, I desperately wish I had a similarly good excuse to make my parents buy me a really sassy dress, because alas, those excuses run few and far between these days. It all seems so terribly unfair, because given the chance, my dresses now would kick the shit out of my dresses then. What was I thinking back then? I mean, aside from the fact that the local Macy's didn't carry, say, Christopher Decarnin for Balmain. But still. These dresses from the Spring/Summer '09 shows would be at the top of my prom wish list (how very Cosmo Girl of me). Although, were I to show up at a dance wearing any of them, I would probably be incapable of dancing without exposing myself and my date probably wouldn't be able to touch me without disturbing some priceless crystal or fold of fabric... But who really cares when they're this amazing.

Balmain:

Marchesa:

Luella:

Andrew James Larsen

2009-04-07T13:41:00.000-07:00

was born on April 2nd, at 12:53 p.m. He is 7 pounds 8.9 ounces, and 19 inches tall. He is my nephew. If you think you've seen a cuter (or better dressed) baby before, please allow me to inform you how terribly mistaken you are. In addition, he is already showing a precocious skill for making squishy old man faces and inciting frenzied jealousy in dogs.

Damn it!

2009-04-07T04:19:00.000-07:00

Only 5 hours of sleep, for the 3rd night in a row. Pretty sure this is bad for me. Damn you slumber parties/cute boys/karaoke/iChat!

Right now!

2009-03-14T18:36:00.000-07:00

Curated by my dear pal, Ryan de la Hoz:

Last night at the Rickshaw...

2009-03-06T18:32:00.000-08:00

In other news, Har Mar Superstar was one of the most impressive live shows I've had the pleasure of witnessing in awhile. Short, fat, balding, naked man in sequined gloves singing electro pop ditties about drinking and babes and male camel toe. Instant classic, duh.
p.s. Enchanting photo courtesy of Jeff Luger's flickr, acquired via Kayvon.

On College and Forgetting

2009-03-06T17:26:00.000-08:00

Upon entering college, I had presumed that by the time I got out I would have attained such a solid grasp on my field of study that it would be impossible to lose. Well. It's been about 3 years since I graduated, and although I have retained an impressive amount of my acquired knowledge, I came across an item today, while cleaning out a box of papers, that gave me pause. During Winter quarter of my senior year I took a course called Modernity and Its Discontents in the History of Consciousness department. As I'd already had the pleasure of reading a good deal of the material on the syllabus, it was intended as an easy foil to the incredibly difficult Senior Seminar (on Anarchy, no less!) that I was taking the same quarter. A good deal of it would be rehashing and/or narrowing the focus on things I had already learned. I breezed through the course and easily got an A. So today, when I came across the topics list for the final paper for that same course, I was stunned to realize that I can no longer easily provide a lengthy and articulate answer to every one of the proposed topics. They were as follows:

1. Discuss Marx's idea of dialectical materialism.
2. What, according to Adorno and Horkheimer, is the legacy of Enlightenment reason?
3. Discuss the relationship between love and aggressivity in Freud's Civilization and Its Discontents.
4. What does Hannah Arendt mean by the phrase 'banality of evil'?
5. Discuss Fanon's reading of Hegel's master-slave conflict in Black Skin, White Masks.

None of these is a tremendously advanced concept in political theory. Not easy, to be certain, but also not unbelievably difficult. Now, I know I could still give a roundabout, stumbling, and wholly unsatisfactory response to any one of these, but... really? Is it really so easy to lose 4 years of excruciatingly hard work? I find this incredibly disheartening and frustrating. Not to mention, it's going to make my graduate school applications a hell of a lot harder. So... I suck.

I think I'm in love.

2009-02-11T10:47:00.000-08:00

I have a new cat. She is 3 and I named her Claudine. Everyone should rush out to the SFSPCA immediately and adopt a cat, because they were all wonderful.

A show to attend

2009-02-05T13:44:00.000-08:00

So, there's this band called Casy & Brian, and they're pretty good, and they're playing a super awesome show on February 7th at Kimo's, as well as one at Bottom of the Hill on the 18th, which will also be super awesome, and everyone should go, and the fact that it's my boyfriend's band has absolutely nothing to do with my promotion.

Toys for fascist children!

2009-02-05T13:09:00.001-08:00

In case you are currently training your little one in, say, management of a police state, or the imposition of martial law, here is a nice little toy set that will help you in said endeavor. Playmobil, my beloved childhood toy of choice, now manufactures a security checkpoint set.

http://www.amazon.com/Playmobil-3172-Security-Check-Point/dp/B0002CYTL2/ref=cm_cr_pr_product_top

Check out the customer tags and reviews; they are a laugh riot. I wonder how many other products on Amazon.com can claim tags under "police state," "tyranny," "fascism," "fear," "martial law," and "1984." Some sample gems from the customer reviews include:

"...Worst of all, since the suitcase did not actually open, the baggage inspector made a call to the FBI and ATF bomb squads which then segregated the family's suitcase (which btw was the only suitcase they provided for our educational family experience) and according to the advanced TSA regulations, had to blow it up, (since they could not otherwise mutilate the luggage, break off the locks and put one of those nice little advisory stickers on it), which we had to simulate out in the backyard with a few M-80s and other fireworks."

"My 5 year old son pointed out that the passenger's shoes cannot be removed. Then, we placed a deadly fingernail file underneath the passenger's scarf, and neither the detector doorway nor the security wand picked it up. My son said "that's the worst security ever!". But it turned out to be okay, because when the passenger got on the Playmobil B757 and tried to hijack it, she was mobbed by a couple of other heroic passengers, who only sustained minor injuries in the scuffle, which were treated at the Playmobil Hospital."

"Thank you Playmobil for allowing me to teach my 5-year old the importance of recognizing what a failing bureaucracy in a ever growing fascist state looks like. Sometimes it's a hard lesson for kids to learn because not all pigs carry billy clubs and wear body armor."

So basically, amazing.

Way to go!

2009-01-06T15:02:00.000-08:00

The Palestinian death toll has passed 500. Israel claims the casualties have been primarily militants, placing the civilian casualty count at below 100. Is there anyone out there who believes this? Considering the tolls come from the mouths of Israeli officials and reporters are currently barred from entering Gaza, I certainly don't. The fact that Gaza's hospitals have already been overwhelmed doesn't inspire confidence in those claims, either. Not to mention, Israeli rocket fire landing in the middle of a marketplace in Gaza City, where civilians were stocking up on necessities for the coming raids, doesn't inspire confidence in the Israeli promise to avoid soft targets. Nor, for that matter, did their striking a U.N. school in Gaza, which had been opened to house those seeking refuge. Way to go, Israel!

Not that I have much confidence in the United States right now, either. The United Nations Security Council attempted to issue a formal statement calling for an immediate cease-fire, only to be blocked by - guess who? That's right, the United States! Way to go, U.S.A.! It would seem that, according to our strict humanitarian standards, the fact that we can't verify whether or not Hamas will abide by a cease-fire is cause enough to continue brutalizing Gaza.

And, per usual, President-elect Obama is still deferring publicly to the Bush administration, so as not to leak his pro-Israel sentiments while he still has the avid support of the would-be Left. Way to go, Obama!

This is the arm of a little girl who was killed in the strike at the U.N. school. I wonder what Obama would have to say if this were one of his little girls.

SO VERY, VERY ANGRY

2009-01-03T14:18:00.001-08:00

It's been awhile since anything felt worth posting about. But now, as you can probably imagine, the current situation in Gaza has me riled up and swearing a whole lot when I try to talk about it. Granted, talking about Israel always has me riled up and swearing a whole lot, because it's one of the only political situations in my lifetime that I haven't been able to - at least briefly and temporarily, for the purpose of debate - separate myself from emotionally. But right now, watching the conflict escalate into a legitimate ground war, I'm even more pissed off than usual.

Flying into JFK earlier this week, watching CNN and MSNBC coverage of the Israeli airstrikes in Gaza, I felt so impotent knowing that protests were underway around the world against the Israeli government, and there I was, stuck on a plane. Later, in the airport, when the cable news stations televised aforementioned protests, I fought the urge to start a riot in the JetBlue terminal. Alas, with no cease-fire in sight and a sense of decorum preventing me from rioting, I will blog.
Israeli troops and tanks have now crossed the Gaza border, with the intent of destroyng Hamas and claiming their rocket launching sites. This, of course, means that the current casualty estimate of 4 Israelis and 430 Palestinians is likely to skyrocket in short order. Not that the Israeli government is likely to care much, as they've always had a nasty little habit of killing Palestinian civilians in order to make a point regarding terrorism. Just last year, in March, they conducted a 48-hour raid that killed around 100 Palestinans. Did they accomplish anything? No. Why they expect this to work, rather than increase the likelihood that civilians will turn to groups like Hamas, is completely beyond me. Anyone whose studied a decent amount of World History could probably tell you that this will never be an effective tactic. And yet, they continue to use it, year after year, much as they are using it now.

The New York Times quoted Israel's defense minister, Ehud Barak, as saying, “This will not be short. This will not be easy. I do not wish to delude anyone.” The paper then went on to say that Barak mentioned "that the coming days will be difficult for the residents of Southern Israel." Right. Because, as troops march across the Gaza border, I'm currently worried about how the Israeli settlers are going to handle the situation. It's just a thought but, if Israelis didn't want to deal with the rage of a displaced people, then maybe they shouldn't have, you know... displaced the people? Just saying.

And so long as I'm touching on quotes that make me want to vomit with rage, I'll turn your attention to one of Obama's statements from earlier this summer on the campaign trail: "If somebody was sending rockets into my house where my two daughters sleep at night, I'm going to do everything in my power to stop that. And I would expect Israelis to do the same thing.” Okay. That's a useful tactic, putting yourself in the shoes of another. I can't argue against that. But did Obama take a moment to consider what he might be driven to do, should his daughters be living without enough food, without clean water, without proper schools, without adequate healthcare, without a house in which to sleep at night? In other words, what he would do if his daughters lived in Gaza? Of course I'm purely speculating, but I think he might be voting for Hamas a whole lot sooner than he'd like to think.

Now, lest anyone should think I actively support the actions of the Hamas goverment (and I would like to stress here that it is a government, and not merely a terrorist group, seeing as how it was elected), I do not. But I do understand them, by which I mean that I can see how it feels to them like their only option. If you deprive a people of their basic rights, the response is frequently violent. (The French Revolution comes to mind...). When a people is particularly downtrodden, they will often follow leaders with questionable tactics. (World War II comes to mind...). It's a tragic irony that Israel should have such very narrow-minded historical hindsight.

But I don't want to preach about how to run a country or manage a conflict or what have you, because obviously my 4 years of university-level political science left me far short of the expert mark. And I don't need to preach because I think it's pretty clear how I feel about Israel. So I maintain my right to get riled up and swear a lot whenever it comes up, and I'll leave it at that for now. But if nothing else, you should be looking at these pictures. I think they're pretty important.
**A disclaimer: this is an admittedly simplistic overview my opinion of the situation. And while I always welcome debate on my blog, if you're inclined to call me an anti-Semite because I don't support Israel, just go away, because my point is obviously lost on you.**

Fires are sad

2008-12-16T00:15:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-02T02:20:00.001-08:00

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?

2008-12-02T02:06:00.000-08:00

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!)

2008-12-01T02:03:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-30T20:15:00.001-08:00

... 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!

2008-11-22T21:23:00.001-08:00

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

2008-11-22T20:51:00.000-08:00

So I got hired today...

2008-11-20T16:14:00.000-08:00

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:

2008-11-17T03:40:00.001-08:00

Thanks, Gama Go!
All photos by Christina James

Dear Dolores Park,

2008-11-15T17:30:00.000-08:00

I <3 you.

Sincerely,
Julia

Field trip to Barney's

2008-11-14T19:08:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-13T16:34:00.000-08:00

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!

2008-11-08T17:30:00.000-08:00

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...

2008-11-08T15:33:00.000-08:00

...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.

2008-10-23T20:28:00.000-07:00

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

2008-10-17T18:15:00.000-07:00

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

2008-10-17T16:32:00.000-07:00

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

2008-10-11T17:16:00.000-07:00

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

2008-09-11T16:34:00.000-07:00

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:

2008-09-10T18:19:00.002-07:00

(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.

2008-09-10T18:19:00.001-07:00

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

2008-08-28T17:42:00.000-07:00

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"

2008-08-26T10:17:00.001-07:00

Thief!

2008-08-24T21:30:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-08-21T18:06:00.001-07:00

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.

2008-08-11T13:13:00.001-07:00

I seriously wish I could do this.

And this.

Olympic pet peeves

2008-08-11T12:36:00.000-07:00

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!

2008-08-08T15:50:00.000-07:00

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

2008-08-06T11:47:00.000-07:00

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!

2008-07-08T20:07:00.000-07:00

PLUS

Champagne truffles

2008-07-07T19:04:00.000-07:00

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

2008-06-24T15:49:00.000-07:00

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.

Frightened Rabbit

2008-06-24T15:18:00.000-07:00

I have a new favorite band: Frightened Rabbit. I'd heard a few of their songs before, but after seeing them at the Independent last week, I'm completely sold. They manage a task not many bands can - the satisfaction of my need for unabashedly catchy, semi-pop indie rock, without the guilt or embarrassment. They are undeniably charming (they're Scottish - obviously). Scott Hutchison, the frontman, rocks a voice that reminds me of a less whiny Adam Duritz (of Counting Crows fame), and the drummer, who happens to be his brother Grant, makes the best faces of any drummer besides maybe The Dodos' Logan Kroeber. The song writing has a decidedly romantic streak that steers well clear of the cloyingly sweet territory into which bands like Postal Service and Death Cab for Cutie are prone to straying. Consequently, their album boasts the best breakup song I've heard in a long time, "Good Arms vs. Bad Arms": I'm sticking to my guns, but from now it's war/I am armed with the past and the will and a brick/I might not want you back, but I want to kill him - go download it. I can see a bit of radio play sending these guys to genuine rock star status. But for now, they remain adorably free of pretention. As Scott put it at the show, "This is probably the first show where we've felt like a proper band." And they still work their own merch booth after the show. Love.

p.s. I have yet to figure out how to take good pictures without a flash on my Lumix. Apologies.

Needles and Pins

2008-06-08T18:01:00.000-07:00

Last week, I met with an acupuncturist. CRAZY. In my first session, I must have had 25 needles in my body. Between my toes, between my fingers, on my shins above my knees, on my face, in my ears, behind my ears, and most surprising of them all, on my throat. And you know how everyone who's ever gotten acupuncture is so quick to say that it doesn't hurt? Well, they're mostly right. Several of the needles I couldn't feel at all, after the initial prick. For example, the ones in my shins and on my feet: I kind of forgot they were there at all. However, the ones in my ears definitely hurt, although the pain subsided within a few minutes. And the one in my neck didn't hurt, per se, but it was a less than comfortable sensation. Apparently it's a special pressure point, which can be felt in the roof of the mouth and the back of the throat. This point is crucial, I was told, for alleviating allergy symptoms (my main motivation for the acupuncture in the first place). In any case, thus situated, on my back and full of needles, I was commanded to "relax" for the next 15 to 20 minutes. The lights were dimmed, a hilariously new-agey CD was played - Crystal Glasses, I believe (or rather, the sound that's made when you rub your finger along the rim) - and a lavender scented eye-pillow was placed on my face. Needless to say, this was all so bizarre (and yet simultaneously so cliche) that I had difficulty relaxing at first. However, come the last several minutes, I'd say I was about ready to go to sleep. At which point the brief reverie was broken, and the needles were removed, leaving only the faintest of marks, all of which faded in the next couple days. I was then sent home with a bottle of beta carotene drops and a bottle of freeze-dried stinging nettle supplements. I have my follow-up in 2 weeks. Fuck yeah.

Let's get married on impulse!

2008-06-07T19:24:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, when I'm not immersed in another Joan Didion novel, I read crap magazines. In fact, I really love reading crap magazines. And although I'm sure a great deal of the population would disagree with me on this point, I personally include W magazine in this category. So when indulging in a recent issue, I came across a seemingly trite article regarding Georgina Chapman's first EVER collection of wedding gown for Marchesa. Why on earth is this interesting, you might ask? (I hope you ask, anyway.) Well, apparently these frocks (they are, of course, referred to as frocks) were not designed with your traditional bride in mind. Rather, they're "aimed at the impromptu bride."

Ummmm, what?

To clarify: "The frocks will be off the rack, suitable for the woman who marries on impulse and for the last minute shopper."

Right.

I, for one, think immediately of the phrase "shotgun wedding." And I don't usually associate shotgun weddings with the class of people who would buy a Marchesa gown. But who am I to judge? Apparently Bergdorf Goodman's seems to think this is a rapidly growing niche market. Linda Fargo, one of their senior VPs, explained that "there is a market for what we loosely call the runaway bride." So, if this sounds like your niche market, make sure you leave time for a quick stop at Bergdorf's on your way to Vegas so you can make sure you're married in style.

Karaoke

2008-05-31T00:29:00.000-07:00

is still my favorite thing.

Silk Therapy

2008-05-30T19:27:00.001-07:00

When I was 19, I was introduced by both my housemate Tara, and my hairstylist Katie from Tonic, to a magnificent product known as Biosilk. Intended to help me make peace with my naturally curly hair, this silicone and silk based hair and skin product has a surprisingly distinct smell that, when worn, will cause hoardes of women to pause and cry out "Biosilk!" in their moment of joyous recognition. This happened to me today in Sugar Cafe: as I ordered my Americano, the girl behind me tentatively asked, "Excuse me, but are you wearing Biosilk in your hair?" And in fact, every time I use it, I'm instantly spirited back to that Spring in 2004, when I was 19 years old and scoured the local thrift stores for kid's T-shirts from which I would always cut the neck, so it hung off one shoulder, and when I used to have Michael Jackson dance parties in the living room with my housemates, and when I developed about 3 rolls of 36-frame B&W film each week, much to the dismay of my father, on whose dime I was living at the time. Since I haven't used it in awhile - I tried to wean myself off of it, and onto cheaper products, what with it costing about $20 for a bottle - it was a pleasant surprise to find that this effect hasn't yet been lost. So if tonight you see me wearing a T-shirt with the neck cut out, don't be surprised. And for those of you curious as to its effectiveness as a hair product, as opposed to a memory stimulant, let me just say that people buy that stuff by the gallon on e-Bay and the Santa Cruz drugstores could never keep it in stock. It's that good.

Beirut: not just in Lebanon!

2008-05-29T12:05:00.000-07:00

I saw Beirut play last night at the Grand Ballroom. This was quite a feat, considering the tickets have been sold out for awhile, and I only found out about the show on Monday night. However, it's amazing what some cash slipped to a security guard in cahoots with the scalpers around the corner from the door can accomplish. In this case, it accomplished three passes for me, Lauren, and Peter (after a solid 20 minutes, however, of lingering around the front of the venue, attempting to talk down the scalper's prices and otherwise looking suspicious). And despite having to relocate ourselves in the crowd after a brief and unpleasant stint next to the drunkest people in the place, the show was amazing. I want to know how it feels to have a voice like Zach Condon. You know, the kind of voice that doesn't even need music, or even words, really. But I'm glad there is music, because I'm such a sucker for horns and ukeleles, both of which Beirut has in abundance. It's the perfect music for swaying, which is what a majority of the audience seemed to do throughout most of the show. If you've never looked out at a crowd of hundreds of people swaying blissfully, let me tell you that it's very comforting. And as an added bonus, they played not one, not two, but three encores. All in all, a satisfying experience.

A letter to Greece

2008-05-27T10:44:00.000-07:00

Dear Greece,

I hereby hate you until July 2nd, upon which date I expect one John Sakkis to be returned to me unharmed and very tan.

Many thanks,

Julia

"Alls you want

2008-05-26T22:26:00.000-07:00

is just tits in your face all day. It feels so good."

-John Sakkis

Dear American Apparel,

2008-05-23T17:59:00.000-07:00

I am tired of your lame ads. I'd appreciate it if you could come up with a new campaign. I apologize for not championing your apparently uber-feminist real-size model schtick, but I'm sick of looking at their real-size asses hanging out of the sweatpants they're supposedly advertising. I'm not paying $60 for her ass, I'm paying $60 for the sweatpants. So it would be nice to see how they look on. Also, there's a reason most fashion photographers don't employ a hard flash against a stark background: it's unpleasant to look at it. I know you think it's novel and maybe even "street" (your claim to fame, of course, is your street cred), but it's usually just ugly. Besides, Juergen Teller did it first, for Marc Jacobs. And seriously, I feel like all of this should have gone without saying. Now, in all honesty, I doubt I'll stop buying your Deep-V Summer T's in all variety of colors, whether you change your ads or not, but it would be cool if I didn't have to see your stale crap every time I turn over a copy of Vice magazine. Okay? Thanks.

Much love,

Julia

May I please have a baby panda?

2008-05-21T15:13:00.001-07:00

Can someone please

2008-05-19T11:16:00.000-07:00

take me to my happy place?

K thnx.

Acquired Skills

2008-05-17T21:13:00.000-07:00

As a girl, I subconsciously presumed that, upon reaching "woman" status, I would know how to do things like apply liquid eyeliner, glue on false eyelashes, and paint my nails. Alas, I think most people would agree I've reached said status, and yet I am not terribly good at doing these things. It would seem that the only way to be good at these things is to practice. Damn...

p.s. This color is pretty hot.

I would make

2008-05-15T16:03:00.000-07:00

an excellent young celebrity party girl trainwreck. If only you could see up my dress. Someone call US Weekly.

However, Cole and I would also make an excellent hip new electronica duo. We're playing Mezzanine soon. Album cover:

America's Next Model You'll Never See Anywhere Besides Commercials That Run During America's Next Top Model

2008-05-15T14:03:00.000-07:00

Well! After an intense Versace-runway face-off, Whitney won Cycle 10 of everyone's favorite reality show, making her the first plus-size winner in HISTORY. Plus-size meaning, of course, that she was blessed with, as her makeup artist put it, "the juicy booty." And should any nay-sayers cite this as a "pity vote," keep in mind that she beat out an African refugee who'd undergone female genital mutilation. So seriously, if any contestant was going to carry the pity vote, it would have been Fatima for sure. However, please forgive me for thinking that all the fuss over a plus-size winner just reinforces the idea that plus-size girls, a) are an isolated group, and b) should not normally be winners, thus when they are, it's cause for much joyous celebration. In any case, the body image of America's female youth aside, I would have been pleased had it gone either way between the final two, Whitney and Anya, despite Anya's inability to speak like a normal human being. But here's to Whitney walking in Tyra's full-figured footsteps in what is no doubt a truly historical event.

Oh, yeah, and California voided the gay marriage ban, and I think there's something going on in China.... But whatevs.

Kate Nash

2008-05-14T15:49:00.001-07:00

So I saw Kate Nash play at the Fillmore last night, and I have a question for the audience: could she possibly get any cuter? My inclination is to say that she probably can't. If she got any cuter, there would be no cuteness left for anybody else. In any case, it was a great show on all counts. I know people like to hate on her forced Cockney accent, but I love it. She informed us that she hates seagulls, but she liked the sea lions because they reminded her of her dog. Also, she was wearing a belt with an enormous gold bow on it, but despite yelling, "Hey, lemme borrow that belt" a number of times, she did not seem to hear me.

I have a crush on Freddy Lewis

2008-05-13T12:09:00.000-07:00

I don't really know why. He just seems like a nice guy. Also, he played really well last night, despite the fact that the rest of the Giants kind of sucked. It could also be due to the fact that our seats were in the outfield just past 3rd base, so I got to stare at him a lot.

I read this today, a.k.a. I <3 Joan Didion

2008-05-10T16:53:00.001-07:00

So, lately I've been whipping through Joan Didion's entire body of work, which is one of the most enjoyable tasks I've undertaken in awhile. Needless to say, when you read Didion, you come across particularly great passages every few seconds or so, but this one really needed to be shared. It's from her piece Political Fictions, a collection of essays on the American political landscape, and from the particular essay "The West Wing of Oz." I think her words pretty much speak for themselves, so here they are:

"December 22, 1988

In August 1986, George Bush, traveling in his role as vice president of the United States and accompanied by his staff, the Secret Service, the traveling press, and a personal camera crew wearing baseball caps reading "Shooters, Inc." and working on a $10,000 retainer paid by a Bush PAC called the Fund for America's Future, spent several days in Israel and Jordan. The schedule in Israel included, according to reports in The Los Angeles Times and The New York Times, shoots at the Western Wall, at the Holocaust memorial, at David Ben-Gurion's tomb, and at thirty-two other locations chosen to produce camera footage illustrating that George Bush was, as Marlin Fitzwater, at that time the vice presidential press-secretary, put it, "familiar with the issues." The Shooters, Inc. crew did not go on to Jordan (there was, an official explained to The Los Angeles Times, "nothing to be gained from showing him schmoozing with Arabs"), but the Bush advance team in Amman had nonetheless directed considerable attention to improving visuals for the traveling press.

Members of the advance team had requested, for example, that the Jordanian army marching band change its uniforms from white to red. They had requested that the Jordanians, who did not have enough equipment to transport Bush's traveling press corps, borrow the necessary helicopters to do so from the Israeli air force. In an effort to assure the color of live military action as a backdrop for the vice president, they had asked the Jordanians to stage maneuvers at a sensitive location overlooking Israel and the Golan Height. They had asked the Jordanians to raise, over the Jordanian base there, the American flag. They had asked that Bush be photographed studying, through binoculars, "enemy territory," a shot ultimately vetoed by the State Department, since the "enemy territory" at hand was Israel. They had also asked, possibly the most arresting detail, that, at every stop on the itinerary, camels be present."

And now I leave you to your own devices to ponder what this has meant for the American political process ever since.

And by the way:

2008-05-08T16:04:00.001-07:00

The Lee Friedlander exhibit was amazing, and Sunday, May 18th is the last day, so GO SEE IT.

So I went to the MoMA, and I bought a trash can.

2008-05-08T15:56:00.001-07:00

It is pretty and biodegradable and it only cost me 15 bucks. Hurrah! But seriously, they sell some random shit in that gift shop. I also bought a yo-yo. I found this yo-yo interesting because it was designed in Italy, made in the Phillipines, and sold in the United States. Why exactly it made it to the MoMA store is beyond me, but I like it nonetheless.

p.s. "If you outlaw yo-yos, then only outlaws with have yo-yos."

It's Burma, dammit! Burma!

2008-05-08T13:46:00.000-07:00

I do not like calling Burma "Myanmar." It feels like conceding defeat. And I don't like losing. I am thinking of this, naturally, because of the current crisis surrounding the Cyclone Nargis. Trust me, there's a connection here.

So here's the low-down on the name issue. The name was changed from Burma to Myanmar after the military junta passed the 'Adaptation of Expressions Law,' which is just one example of an extensive process of top-down political and cultural reform to which the country's citizens have been subjected. This might all seem cut-and-dry, but the issue goes a little deeper when you consider that a number of Western governments (the United States included, believe it or not) refuse to recognize the military regime ironically known as the State Peace and Development Council. Currently lead by Senior General Than Shwe, the SPDC holds its national power through pure force, has been accused of human rights abuses by a number of countries and organizations, and has driven its people into ever deeper poverty via gross economic mismanagement. It makes sense that we would not recognize a government of this nature, yes? And until now, the U.S., among many others, has stubbornly refused to use the name Myanmar, continuing instead to call it Burma.

Until NOW.

It's been six days since Cyclone Nargis hit, but the military government is still preventing large-scale foreign relief efforts. Aid drops from the air, typically one of the most effective means of distribution, would require permission from the Myanmar military junta. So although plane-loads of relief supplies have been offered from governments around the world, they continue to sit in airports, unused, while Burmese officials remain reluctant to cooperate with the outside world. Most people are without shelter. There is no power, and in most areas, no clean drinking water and no food. Outbreaks of diarrhea and malaria are now being reported in many areas, as can only be expected in circumstances involving large amounts of stagnant water and a lack of drinking water. And naturally, as is being reported by Richard Bridle, a Deputy Regional Director of UNICEF, young children are going to bear the brunt of these disease outbreaks, meaning the death toll can be expected to continue climbing steadily. There is no way of predicting when the SPDC will allow substantial foreign aid, or how many people will die before they do.

So I ask you: does this seem like an appropriate time for every media outlet from the New York Times to the PBS News Hour With Jim Lehr to start wussing out and calling it Myanmar? Because in my mind, this seems like a pretty good time to insist on calling it Burma.

But I guess that's just me.

I don't know this guy, but...

2008-05-03T18:58:00.000-07:00

he makes some cool art.

His name is Grant. Here's his website.

Also, he will be in a show soon, hosted by my dear friend Deli, on Saturday May 10th.

You should definitely come to this show, since there will be rad art and zines and cupcakes and none of the pieces will cost more than 50 bonez.

Please do not forget to bring your party hats. I mean, hatz. K thnx.

On my mind

2008-04-23T21:28:00.000-07:00

I have eaten granola with yogurt and fruit at some point in the day, everyday, for the past 12 days.

----

The day I meet someone who can do coke without turning into an asshole, I will do a little dance.

----

My cat is enormous.

Contact Lenses

2008-04-23T14:30:00.000-07:00

Right now, my eyes hurt so badly, I am wondering what it would be like to have no eyes. I don't think I've ever thought about this before. Certainly I've thought about blindness before, and how I lack the necessary character to forge stoically through, Helen Keller-like, to any sort of theoretical bright side. I think I would collapse. I think I would rip out my eyes. Empty sockets. I am thinking now of Oedipus Rex. I am also thinking of Robert Creeley.

I miss my friends...

2008-04-22T20:10:00.000-07:00

Like Tara:

and Barbara:

and Damon:

and Keli:

and Mike:

and Sean, Kyle, Kevin, Phil, Marc, and Mikey:

Plus some others...

Call to Prayer

2008-04-14T17:50:00.001-07:00

Blue Mosque, Sultanahmet, Istanbul

Protest Nostalgia

2008-04-09T15:34:00.001-07:00

Apparently civil disobedience now requires a city-issued permit and a blurb on the cover of the SF Chronicle...

I am getting nostalgic for the feeling I had when I was 18 and I felt sure that taking to the streets could change the world. I am not going to argue now about whether or not this is actually true. But at the time, I felt convinced. I lack that conviction now.

Perhaps I should have gone into this on the 5 th anniversary of the start of the war, but at the time, it didn't seem deeply relevant. Now, however, with the scheduled, publicized, legal protests occurring downtown regarding China/Tibet/Burma/the Olympics, I feel a sort of sad fondness for the general mayhem in which I used to participate.

I <3 independent film:

2008-04-08T20:18:00.001-07:00

Within 24 Hours

2008-04-08T01:06:00.000-07:00

Screw top white wine and lots of dogs and
I don't know anyone else who brings a pillow and
I want to be a Japanese girl
jumping in front of the Painted Ladies
until you get the perfect shot and
I have not brushed my teeth for a very long time.

Istanbul Part IV: Cats

2008-03-26T18:25:00.001-07:00

Just pictures for now. Words coming soon.

Istanbul Part III: Sultanahmet

2008-03-26T18:03:00.001-07:00

My first impression of Sultanahmet comes in the back of a shuttle van, on my way to the hotel from the airport. I am startled by the narrowness of the streets - barely enough room for two cars to pass each other - and by the fact that we don't hit any of the stray cats on the way, because there are cats on literally every corner. The buildings are fairly tall and narrow, most of them stretching up five or six stories high in an effort to get that money-making view of the Marmara Sea from the top floor. Almost every establishment has a top floor dining room/terrace/dance floor/etc. And it's worth it, because the view is gorgeous, as I discover the next morning from the breakfast terrace of our hotel.

And while we're on the topic I think the breakfast menu is worth noting: sesame bread rolls, goats'-milk cheese, sliced tomatoes and cucumbers, green and black olives, sliced oranges, yogurt, jam and honey, hard-boiled eggs, and pound cake, washed down with Nescafe, cherry juice, and orange Tang! Obviously, right? Because what would breakfast be without some Tang?

Shortly after arriving, my mom and I are sitting in the hotel room, debating our dinner options, when we get our first sharp reminded that we are very far away from home. The call to prayer, called adhan, begins for the fifth and final time of the day around 7:30 pm. The first time I hear it, it's profoundly spooky. I run to the window half-expecting to see men dropping to their prayer mats in the streets. I don't see this, of course, because most of Istanbul's population, though Muslim, is not terribly devout. Most of the population attends the Friday afternoon service, and prays then, sort of like a Christian who attends church only on Sunday mornings. The adhan does become one of my favorite things about Istanbul. I even wake up for the 5am call, the first of the day, and sit at the window with my head leaning out in the dark.

When we first set out to explore the neighborhood, we quickly discover that it's difficult, if not impossible, to walk up the street without getting sucked into a conversation with one of the hundreds of men standing in front of their stores and restaurants. I suppose it would be possible if you were cold-hearted and/or dead inside, but I personally find it charming, so I tend to allow myself to be sucked in. Everyone wants to know where we were from, and the response "California" tends to result in much admiration, as well as a number of responses such as:

"Oh, I've been to California, but only once... do you know of Emeryville?"
or
"My cousin lives in California, perhaps you know his town... it's called Lafayette."

Obviously two of the COOLEST towns in California, right? I don't meet anyone who has been to San Francisco, actually, but a lot of people seem to have a very magical image of it in their heads. I do not try to dissuade them of its awesomeness.

Aside from wanting to know our hometowns, these men are also eager to offer any number of camels to my mother in exchange for me. This is a typical Turkish turn of phrase (joking of course). Sometimes they preface their proposal with a touch of flattery for Mom, such as "Oh, what a lovely little sister you have!" Alas, no one has access to enough camels to satisfy my demanding mother, and so I am denied the acquisition of a husband on this trip. I do, however, learn to love the banter from the shopkeepers and restaurateurs:

"Hello lady, yes please, would you like to have a look at my menu? We have terrace upstairs..."
"Oh, Mama, such a pretty daughter - look at those eyes! Please come inside, we have pashmina..."
"Ladies, would you like to see my carpets? I will make a deal just for you..."

By the end of the trip, we are in the shop at the corner every night, enjoying tea and the nargileh with Ibrahim, Ugur, and Hakan. It almost feels like we're locals.

It is far and away my favorite part of Istanbul. Everyone is incredibly friendly. I find myself wanting to live here forever: waking up at 5 to hear adhan, eating goat cheese and cucumbers for breakfast, drinking tea in a carpet shop, petting the stray cats, smoking the nargileh on a terrace overlooking the Sea of Marmara, eating a sesame ring outside the Blue Mosque, drinking raki and eating meze... So don't be surprised if I disappear, because this is where you will probably find me.

Istanbul Part II: The Spice Bazaar

2008-03-26T17:39:00.000-07:00

The Spice Bazaar is much smaller than the Grand Bazaar, and the salesmen are a little less aggressive... but only a little. It feels a bit more exotic, for lack of a better word, than the Grand Bazaar, as well. As someone who grew up driving to Safeway if I needed some vanilla extract to bake cookies, the concept of going to a special bazaar to pick up some saffron to make dinner is a bit wild. Of course, you can find more than just spices there. There's also dried fruit, baklava, Turkish delight (in every flavor from rose to pomegranate), sausages, mushrooms, and obviously, even more evil eye ornaments, just in case you didn't buy enough at the Grand Bazaar. There is also quite a range of teas, which are listed by the specific physical ailments they're intended to treat. There's Eczema Tea, Arthritis Tea, and the ever-popular Gynecological Diseases Tea (I made sure to bring back a lot of that one). But perhaps most delightful of all is the much-advertised Turkish Viagra, which, as far as I could tell, was just an "aphrodisiac" treat somewhat akin to baklava. It does, however, guarantee "5 TIMES IN THE NIGHT," so who am I to be skeptical. Alas, I bought nothing more exciting than a bag of dried apricots and a pepper grinder for McKenna. But the apricots were delicious.