So I am at work. Unnecessarily so. I could leave. I don’t have anything left to do. But I am trying to impress this new fancy pants production designer I am working with, and to show her my tough as nails work my ass off attitude, so I am staying late and putting on a show….
When in fact I am emailing and writing my blog over a sausage sandwich.
I haven’t had to prove myself at work in a long long time. Seems like I’ve been doing this shit for so long, and it always came so easy to me I never had to push- I was just naturally good.
And it’s not that I’m not good now- I just have to pretend to be better right now… (God, does that even make sense?)
There’s just some extenuating pressure on this job, and I have to say I totally dig it…. I like it when it’s hard.
And it’s working. She just told me she wants me on every job with her. Which would be pretty fucking cool, because she’s probably the most talented high profile designer I’ve ever worked with, and she works all the time, all over the world…
But whatever. Cuz right now it’s 7:46pm and I haven’t done shit for like 3 hours… I’m just chilling, getting dinner and keeping her company. But sometimes, that’s the job description.
In other news. I guess I have a boyfriend. I don’t know quite how it happened, but I am seeing a guy and it’s getting kinda serious and I like him a lot. It’s weird.
Strange how it all happens when you least expect it to. I swore I was coming to LA for 3 months- make cash in and out. And well, I kinda wanna stay right now. I am really enjoying my life right now. I feel happy and healthy and it just all feels good.
And once again, I find myself Happy. Right where I am. What a gift.
Oh and PS- my friend called me to say that he bought his black razor phone because they played “back in black” on the commercial… guess I’m not alone after all. Fucking advertising. Anyone who makes commercials should die. I mean, uh… ahem...woops.
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
TARGET AUDIENCE (aka love letter to the 80’s)
Well, I got taken. Total snap drag take out by the man- suckered by advertising- targeted, zoomed into and fuckin sold. It’s the heartbeat of America, it’s our raison de etra… it is the great American machine. I knew it was happening, I felt it go down, and I did nothing to stop it. Because that’s how capitalism works. God bless it.
And some days I just love it.
Last week my cell phone broke- well, it wasn’t completely dead, in truth I probably could have gotten another several months out of it. But the fucking things sucked. It hung up every time I flipped it open… it was a piece of shit. Slow, old, total piece. (albeit at one time a very expensive piece of shit) but it was dying something vicious and it was not going to be long before it was completely caput, So I decided to head that fucker off at the pass and get a new one.
So I went to the Cingular store- figured I’d just buy the new razor in like, black or silver or whatever cuz it was closest to my old phone (you know, the piece of shit), and it was actually only $100 which seemed reasonable enough. (my last phone cost me almost $400… so $100 seemed like the deal of the century)… Plus, I knew a few people who had the razor, and they liked it enough.. so ok I figured I’d buy it. But then at the last minute I decided not to buy the phone that day- I don’t know why, the person I was with got antsy and I decided I didn’t care enough to stick around and buy the fucker.
Honestly I was thinking do I REALLY need it? The phone isn’t dead YET, and after a year in Italy, the idea of rushing out to buy a little shiny object simply because I could, seemed… well, unnecessary. Like do I REALLY NEED a new one. Not totally, not yet, not 100%.
I’ve been very aware of that recently- all the marketing and advertising that has been pushed my way. I don’t think I ever really noticed it before- having grown up with it- but to have a brief respite from it- I realized how much of a relief it is to NOT have all that advertising shoved down your throat… and what a difference it really makes. Can you imagine?- I didn’t WANT anything. Not for an entire year- new camera? no, this one works. New blackberry? Please. New I pod, why? New digital whatever, new nothing… no. No new phone- NOTHING NEW. No clothes, NO NOTHING NEW- in a year I bought myself a ring (which actually my mom bought for me) and a pair of earrings. And that’s it. Seriously, food, beer and 3 pieces of jewelry. I didn’t even do Christmas. No shopping, no consumerism. I actually felt really good about NOT having all the trimmings. Such a relief.
Because before I left I was- fuckin, knee deep. Two phone lines, cell phone, fax, TV, cable, tivo, fancy car, all the insurances, video camera, computer, digital camera, extra batteries, extra cables, a charger in the car, in the bed room, in the office and one in the kit… I mean shit, you name it I had it… serious… all the STUFF.
And when I got rid of it all: pheeeew what a relief. I can’t tell you. And so much extra space in my life.
So then I go and lolly about in Italy for a year- no advertising, no marketing, no desire.
I’ve only been home two months. What can I say? My defenses are down. My stamina is low… my immunity to “the sell” is weak.
After I didn’t buy the phone that day (which I was secretly proud of) I was watching TV when a cingular commercial came on- for the razor phone- IN PINK. Which is pretty fucking awesome. But THEN they had the psychedelic fur’s “Pretty in pink” as the god damned soundtrack…
DUDE.
How can I fight that? Seriously… dude- I have no resistance to pretty in pink- I go right back to my love for Johnny Hughes, my endless infatuation with the 80’s… I think of Molly and Judd, Little Anthony Mikey Hall, Emilio, Abe Froman even James Spader… fuck me…I’m 16 in my trans am, a black one- not the guy the car- a black car, a pink guy, I’m twisting into a sea of 80 music and leg warmers, Ferris is there and life is moving pretty fast but I’m stopping to look around so as not to miss it, adults are the enemy and when you grow up your heart dies, I’m in a rolls, I’ve heard the fender on this is 5 grand- do have 5 grand? I don’t have 5 grand, but THIS is getting good- oh man, put the diamond earring in my year, cross the football field because no one was buying this together woman of the 80’s thing anyway…. And let’s plow because I’m the duckman and I live to like you and Jakes my boy, and the girl in the hat is so vogue and for a moment I’m farmer Ted, I’m not really a farmer though, and long duck dong is there and it’s sofa city sweetheart, and I can remember lots of things… because life is not what not and secondly it’s none of your business… and I got Caroline in the bedroom right now passed out cold I could violate her 10 different ways if I wanted to.. but it’s time to whip it and I’m having a total eclipse of the heart. In the 80’s it was really human for you to listen to all of my shit, even if we did have bra’s on our heads, on the highway to the danger zone, and screws fall out all the time in the 80’s, because the world is an imperfect place, but I’m a fucking genius because I can’t make a lamp, but moe-lay really pumps my nads and the question isn’t what are we gonna do today, it’s what aren’t we going to do, but it’s all voodoo economics, and it’s no problem what so ever because my best friends sister’s boyfriend's brother's girlfriend heard from this guy who knows this kid who's going with the girl who saw Ferris pass out at 31 Flavors last night. I guess it's pretty serious.
And it WAS pretty serious.
Seriously.
And this is the thing about advertising.
They flash that pink phone and play that song, and me, their IDEAL target audience sees it. And that last paragraph storms thru my mind in an instant. And they win.
Game over. I loose they win. I HAVE TO HAVE THE LITTLE PINK PHONE. I have to.
And so I do. I go down to the store and buy it, and because its pink (and pretty) it’s $150. But I pay, I pay for Ferris and Molly and all of it.
And then I have it and every time it rings (and it rings a lot…) I have a little bit of that with me.
And that’s a lot. Plus every time someone sees it they say “ohhhhh you got the pink one, awesome….”
AND I LOVE IT. LOVE IT. I’m using the word love. I love my phone. IT’S AWESOME.
Sick. Demented. Delicious.
Caroline laughs and it’s raining all day and she loves to one of the girls…She’s pretty in pink. Isn’t she?
And some days I just love it.
Last week my cell phone broke- well, it wasn’t completely dead, in truth I probably could have gotten another several months out of it. But the fucking things sucked. It hung up every time I flipped it open… it was a piece of shit. Slow, old, total piece. (albeit at one time a very expensive piece of shit) but it was dying something vicious and it was not going to be long before it was completely caput, So I decided to head that fucker off at the pass and get a new one.
So I went to the Cingular store- figured I’d just buy the new razor in like, black or silver or whatever cuz it was closest to my old phone (you know, the piece of shit), and it was actually only $100 which seemed reasonable enough. (my last phone cost me almost $400… so $100 seemed like the deal of the century)… Plus, I knew a few people who had the razor, and they liked it enough.. so ok I figured I’d buy it. But then at the last minute I decided not to buy the phone that day- I don’t know why, the person I was with got antsy and I decided I didn’t care enough to stick around and buy the fucker.
Honestly I was thinking do I REALLY need it? The phone isn’t dead YET, and after a year in Italy, the idea of rushing out to buy a little shiny object simply because I could, seemed… well, unnecessary. Like do I REALLY NEED a new one. Not totally, not yet, not 100%.
I’ve been very aware of that recently- all the marketing and advertising that has been pushed my way. I don’t think I ever really noticed it before- having grown up with it- but to have a brief respite from it- I realized how much of a relief it is to NOT have all that advertising shoved down your throat… and what a difference it really makes. Can you imagine?- I didn’t WANT anything. Not for an entire year- new camera? no, this one works. New blackberry? Please. New I pod, why? New digital whatever, new nothing… no. No new phone- NOTHING NEW. No clothes, NO NOTHING NEW- in a year I bought myself a ring (which actually my mom bought for me) and a pair of earrings. And that’s it. Seriously, food, beer and 3 pieces of jewelry. I didn’t even do Christmas. No shopping, no consumerism. I actually felt really good about NOT having all the trimmings. Such a relief.
Because before I left I was- fuckin, knee deep. Two phone lines, cell phone, fax, TV, cable, tivo, fancy car, all the insurances, video camera, computer, digital camera, extra batteries, extra cables, a charger in the car, in the bed room, in the office and one in the kit… I mean shit, you name it I had it… serious… all the STUFF.
And when I got rid of it all: pheeeew what a relief. I can’t tell you. And so much extra space in my life.
So then I go and lolly about in Italy for a year- no advertising, no marketing, no desire.
I’ve only been home two months. What can I say? My defenses are down. My stamina is low… my immunity to “the sell” is weak.
After I didn’t buy the phone that day (which I was secretly proud of) I was watching TV when a cingular commercial came on- for the razor phone- IN PINK. Which is pretty fucking awesome. But THEN they had the psychedelic fur’s “Pretty in pink” as the god damned soundtrack…
DUDE.
How can I fight that? Seriously… dude- I have no resistance to pretty in pink- I go right back to my love for Johnny Hughes, my endless infatuation with the 80’s… I think of Molly and Judd, Little Anthony Mikey Hall, Emilio, Abe Froman even James Spader… fuck me…I’m 16 in my trans am, a black one- not the guy the car- a black car, a pink guy, I’m twisting into a sea of 80 music and leg warmers, Ferris is there and life is moving pretty fast but I’m stopping to look around so as not to miss it, adults are the enemy and when you grow up your heart dies, I’m in a rolls, I’ve heard the fender on this is 5 grand- do have 5 grand? I don’t have 5 grand, but THIS is getting good- oh man, put the diamond earring in my year, cross the football field because no one was buying this together woman of the 80’s thing anyway…. And let’s plow because I’m the duckman and I live to like you and Jakes my boy, and the girl in the hat is so vogue and for a moment I’m farmer Ted, I’m not really a farmer though, and long duck dong is there and it’s sofa city sweetheart, and I can remember lots of things… because life is not what not and secondly it’s none of your business… and I got Caroline in the bedroom right now passed out cold I could violate her 10 different ways if I wanted to.. but it’s time to whip it and I’m having a total eclipse of the heart. In the 80’s it was really human for you to listen to all of my shit, even if we did have bra’s on our heads, on the highway to the danger zone, and screws fall out all the time in the 80’s, because the world is an imperfect place, but I’m a fucking genius because I can’t make a lamp, but moe-lay really pumps my nads and the question isn’t what are we gonna do today, it’s what aren’t we going to do, but it’s all voodoo economics, and it’s no problem what so ever because my best friends sister’s boyfriend's brother's girlfriend heard from this guy who knows this kid who's going with the girl who saw Ferris pass out at 31 Flavors last night. I guess it's pretty serious.
And it WAS pretty serious.
Seriously.
And this is the thing about advertising.
They flash that pink phone and play that song, and me, their IDEAL target audience sees it. And that last paragraph storms thru my mind in an instant. And they win.
Game over. I loose they win. I HAVE TO HAVE THE LITTLE PINK PHONE. I have to.
And so I do. I go down to the store and buy it, and because its pink (and pretty) it’s $150. But I pay, I pay for Ferris and Molly and all of it.
And then I have it and every time it rings (and it rings a lot…) I have a little bit of that with me.
And that’s a lot. Plus every time someone sees it they say “ohhhhh you got the pink one, awesome….”
AND I LOVE IT. LOVE IT. I’m using the word love. I love my phone. IT’S AWESOME.
Sick. Demented. Delicious.
Caroline laughs and it’s raining all day and she loves to one of the girls…She’s pretty in pink. Isn’t she?
Sunday, February 12, 2006
SCREWED BY A STRANGER
So, as you know I am sort of all over the place right now… wandering jew kinda thing (except with a place to sleep and not a jew). So when my friend gave me the number of a psychic who “was amazing” and had “blown her mind”I thought I’d give her a call and see if she could pull some mystic info down from the ether and perhaps offer some direction to me and my wandering ness.
Now I am kinda of a believer in psychic energy… I worked on a documentary on psychics a few years ago and it really kinda gave me new information about them. And I have remained curious about them ever since. I’m not a card carrying believer or anything.. but I think that anything is possible… and I have certainly experienced sensations like a deja-vu and coincidence- and it seems awfully closed minded to say that other people might not feel those feelings more strongly and be better honed at controlling them. For me that possibility exists, and therefore I am willing to indulge from time to time. For fun, for fascination, and to keep the hope alive that there is something great and cool and mysterious lingering just above all of our heads.
So I made the call, got an apt. Looked vaguely forward to it… blah blah. Was even prepared to drop the cash for it… and it wasn’t gonna be cheap.
But fuck it right? So I called this week to leave a message – hey I have an apt- where are you located, I don’t know where to go kinda thing. Then I called again morning of… uh- do we have an apt?
No answer, no call back.
Dude, no dice.
Totally stood up by a psychic. What a bitch. (and a wee bit unprofessional if you ask me). But seriously. What the fuck? Total spiritual fuck over. Screwed by a soothsayer. Bitch. So much for reading into shit now.
One can only hope she’s just unprofessional, and hasn’t been abducted by the Libyan army for testing or something…..
But I say fuck her either way.
Because I did ok- I managed. I was on the east side when I realized she wasn’t going to call back in time for my appointment. So I went to a park, sat in the sun, took a walk around the lake. Let the sky cross my mind. Then stood up and spent the rest of the day with the boy I like. Didn’t suck.
Now I am kinda of a believer in psychic energy… I worked on a documentary on psychics a few years ago and it really kinda gave me new information about them. And I have remained curious about them ever since. I’m not a card carrying believer or anything.. but I think that anything is possible… and I have certainly experienced sensations like a deja-vu and coincidence- and it seems awfully closed minded to say that other people might not feel those feelings more strongly and be better honed at controlling them. For me that possibility exists, and therefore I am willing to indulge from time to time. For fun, for fascination, and to keep the hope alive that there is something great and cool and mysterious lingering just above all of our heads.
So I made the call, got an apt. Looked vaguely forward to it… blah blah. Was even prepared to drop the cash for it… and it wasn’t gonna be cheap.
But fuck it right? So I called this week to leave a message – hey I have an apt- where are you located, I don’t know where to go kinda thing. Then I called again morning of… uh- do we have an apt?
No answer, no call back.
Dude, no dice.
Totally stood up by a psychic. What a bitch. (and a wee bit unprofessional if you ask me). But seriously. What the fuck? Total spiritual fuck over. Screwed by a soothsayer. Bitch. So much for reading into shit now.
One can only hope she’s just unprofessional, and hasn’t been abducted by the Libyan army for testing or something…..
But I say fuck her either way.
Because I did ok- I managed. I was on the east side when I realized she wasn’t going to call back in time for my appointment. So I went to a park, sat in the sun, took a walk around the lake. Let the sky cross my mind. Then stood up and spent the rest of the day with the boy I like. Didn’t suck.
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
HOME ON THE RANGE
So living with the parents is starting to suck.
It’s nothing they have done- all they do is want to hang out and keep a stocked fridge, do my laundry and have a cleaning lady…. I don’t pay rent, I don’t pay bills I don’t even feed my cats.
It’s hell. Seriously.
I mean- how can I complain? On one hand I got it made- But dude. I got to get out of here- pronto.
I just need privacy. 30 and living with my parents. I love to save the money- but this is totally brutal. This weekend all I wanted to do was sit in MY SPACE and be ALONE and have a little privacy.
I guess the other thing is that since I have been here there has been someone else in the other guest room which means I am sharing a bathroom, and… well, after a year of being 6000 miles away from my closest friend- eating meals alone, sleeping alone- not speaking very good Italian or whatever… I just go so used to BEING ALONE.
And I fucking miss it. I do. I really just miss the quiet of my own thoughts while I chew, or sleep, or stare, or draw or read of WHATEVER.
I can’t get that here- and I knew I wouldn’t, and I knew coming into this that it would be like this- but, I’m afraid that doesn’t make it any easier.
And I don’t know what to do. Do I sublet an apartment- do I move back into my old one? Do I just stick it out? Can I even make it another month? I mean I want to save money but not this bad… am I even still going to Colorado? Should I just make money and move back to Europe? Don’t know what to do-
Really really confused man.
I guess that’s ok. Just feels weird. I’m not used to feeling this way, and I’m not a particular fan of being in unfamiliar territory.
But I’m not complaining. (or am I?) Just venting- on the little corner of the world that I have made for myself to do that.
It’s nothing they have done- all they do is want to hang out and keep a stocked fridge, do my laundry and have a cleaning lady…. I don’t pay rent, I don’t pay bills I don’t even feed my cats.
It’s hell. Seriously.
I mean- how can I complain? On one hand I got it made- But dude. I got to get out of here- pronto.
I just need privacy. 30 and living with my parents. I love to save the money- but this is totally brutal. This weekend all I wanted to do was sit in MY SPACE and be ALONE and have a little privacy.
I guess the other thing is that since I have been here there has been someone else in the other guest room which means I am sharing a bathroom, and… well, after a year of being 6000 miles away from my closest friend- eating meals alone, sleeping alone- not speaking very good Italian or whatever… I just go so used to BEING ALONE.
And I fucking miss it. I do. I really just miss the quiet of my own thoughts while I chew, or sleep, or stare, or draw or read of WHATEVER.
I can’t get that here- and I knew I wouldn’t, and I knew coming into this that it would be like this- but, I’m afraid that doesn’t make it any easier.
And I don’t know what to do. Do I sublet an apartment- do I move back into my old one? Do I just stick it out? Can I even make it another month? I mean I want to save money but not this bad… am I even still going to Colorado? Should I just make money and move back to Europe? Don’t know what to do-
Really really confused man.
I guess that’s ok. Just feels weird. I’m not used to feeling this way, and I’m not a particular fan of being in unfamiliar territory.
But I’m not complaining. (or am I?) Just venting- on the little corner of the world that I have made for myself to do that.
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