Le Delire Californien

So I've managed to put aside all my psycho projects and just relax. Well, relax as much as I am able. Hence, I spent pretty much all of yesterday poolside. I think reading at the pool or the beach is pretty much my favorite thing on earth to do. Being me though, I prefer that this happen in complete isolation. But being that I was at like, my apartment complex's pool, no such luck.

I can deal with my afternoon being punctuated by the screams of random children -- I've given myself over to that inevitability -- but it's the college-age kids who are worst. They all seem to have at least three tattoos each, and said tattoos are a preferred topic of conversation. Occasionally it makes me laugh as it reminds me of "Frat Aliens," which may be my favorite episode of ATHF ("I had to get wasted to do it 'cause it hurt like eight bitches on a bitch boat"). What are the tattoos of choice? For guys, anything excessively large and "tribal," followed by anything Asian or pseudo-Asian. For girls, poorly drawn moons and stars (which are usually giant for no reason), tribal motifs that incorporate non-tribal roses, and local flora and fauna (for example, a truly hideous baby sea turtle that was like, the size of my palm).

Similarly, you can imagine how these people dress. Yes, bathing suits, which are neither here nor there, but among the girls at least, trucker hats and platform flip flops have not died out as a fashion statement (the statement being, I guess, "Look at me, I'm 2004 Britney Spears!"). I also enjoy the girls who wear halter dresses and heels to the pool. They're just sort of random. Where are they going dressed like that at noon? Who knows. Those girls generally favor the teased-at-the-crown-ponytail that was a favorite among Nicole Richie and the cast of Laguna Beach a couple of years back.

But at least they're quiet about the clothes. Not so everything else. The boys seem to spend their entire day doing trick dives (making me wince every time they nearly split their skulls on the concrete) to impress the girls, each other, themselves, who knows. The girls seem to spend their pool time shrieking into their cell phones. Lengthy dissections of just how drunk everyone was last night are also frequently in order ("And then we were like, take your pants off, and then you like, totally did!!!!"). Again, this leads to pop culture reference free-association on my part (yesterday this one group kept talking about their time spent playing "Erotic Photo Hunt" at the Sand Bar, which immediately made me think, "The Sand Bar, that place that lets fifteen-year-old-kids drink" -- come on, Dead Milkmen anyone?). Also trying to update that Heathers line, "All Kurt and Ram had to offer the world was date rape and AIDS jokes" -- what would the 2007 version be? The weirdest thing of all may be tho that a lot of the other people at the pool are the like, in-five-years versions of these people. Quieter, married or cohabitating, fatter, way more tattoos, several children under five.

Anyway yesterday the icing on the cake was the inevitable people who'd brought a jambox with them. At least the sound quality is decent, unlike the people who play music -- yes, out loud for the benefit of others -- over their cell phones. In terms of aesthetic "quality" however, hooboy. These people played the entire Sublime album. Not once, but twice. Now lord knows my music taste is stuck in the past, but San Diego is a little OOC. They all seem to worship the music of approximately 1995-1998. Sublime, Dave Matthews Band, and the Dr Dre and Tupac song "California Love," which all radio stations here seem to be required to play once an hour (even though we only get the brief "it's all good, from Diego to the Bay"). There probably isn't a night here when you couldn't go somewhere and see live either a DMB tribute band, a Sublime tribute band, or both. Possibly on the same bill. The other week I was eating dinner out, and a Sublime song came on in the restaurant. I immediately started carping about like, what an awful band, when I had this like, Grinch-style realization -- "all the Whoos started singing." Yes, everywhere I turned, everyone else in the restaurant was singing along. It was scary.

But anyway. It's 10 am, the sun's completely up, and everyone is probably still nursing their hangovers from the Sand Bar, so I'd better get out there while the getting's good.

[Being that I went to the library yesterday to find that all SD libraries were closed in honor of Cesar Chavez day, I am reading whatever is around the house that hasn't been read and isn't either like, for school or a guidebook or something. I actually did pick up and thumb through the Lucky Guide to Shopping the other day. I like that magazine but man, those people have you dress boring sometimes. Or just weird. In their most recent issue, there's this layering article, and in every outfit they put on at least one layer too many. Layering a dress over a skirt and top? Unnecessary. Anyway, in spite of the fact that the magazine would lead you to believe you need to own 7,000 of everything, the guide seems to think you should own like, 7 of everything. It made me feel awkward and guilty so I put it down. Even tho last week I was reading the style issue of the New Yorker and they kept talking to these women in like, Texas who had multiple rooms in their homes devoted to wardrobe storage. Why am I so obsessed with clothes? It's so predictable and boring.

Anyway I stole the title for this post from one of the stories in this book. It's okay, I mean, I'm reading it, but sometimes I read like, you know how people will put the TV on and just leave it on? I'm sometimes like that with reading, which is a little bizarre. It's like, oh, I'd rather be reading than not reading, so. I haven't read much Michael Chabon before, just a few random short stories... the novels must be great cause based on this collection I'm thinking he's very overrated. You know who lately I've been thinking is underrated? Billy Squire. Not an author. You know, the guy who sings "The Stroke," "The Big Beat," and "Rock Me Tonight."] Currently Reading: "A Model World and Other Stories" (Michael Chabon)

It's official: I'm insane

So, you know how I'm always complaining about my lack of control over my life, and then like, trying to gain control in ineffectual ways, like raising houseplants I inevitably kill? Well, bugging out -- you can't even call it a mid-year crisis, I guess it's a quarter-year crisis -- has led me to new heights (depths?) of closet organization. I'm not talking about one of those ridiculous Container Store systems that costs a ton of money (though I do have their fun colorful hangers, my shelving consists of old FreshDirect boxes). I'm talking virtual storage.

So, after much searching, it turns out that that program Alicia Silverstone uses to get dressed in Clueless doesn't actually exist (duh) -- no one has tried to make anything like it (surprising). The only wardrobe organization programs I could find were one really heinous-looking one for PCs (ew) and a bunch that were for people who like, owned clothing stores. I don't have quite that much clothing, so I had to come up with something else. And yes in the process, I am culling much from my wardrobe -- if I haven't worn it in over two years, don't remember owning it, it doesn't fit, or some combination of the above, it goes either to charity or to resale depending on what it is. I've only gone through my shoes, sweaters, tops good enough to merit hangers, dresses, and skirts so far, but I have already gotten a couple hundred dollars in credit at various local buy/sell/trades (and no, I haven't spent it all! Separate blog post about all the crap I've been buying to come).

Anyway, in trying to create more room in the clown car, I'm also working on organizing the clowns (yes, by color). But I'm also -- here's the insanity part -- photographing each item and uploading it to iPhoto. It's not ideal, but iPhoto lets you put whatever titles and comments you want (you can do keywords too, but they're super annoying). And then of course, since it's software that starts with "i" it's super searchable, so I can find like, everything pink or all my metal tees or everything I bought from the Goodwill in Poughkeepsie. Anyway, it takes me from this:



(Yeah, I keep my shoes in under-bed boxes stacked in the closet -- this is the top box, which I keep the lid off. You can see that when I like something, I usually buy it in more than one color.) Anyway it takes me from that, which is admittedly pretty organized -- I forgot to take a photo of when they were all just making a great shoe mountain blocking access to half of my bedroom -- to this:



Sorry my screen grab got a little fuzzy when I shrunk it, but you get the idea. If you could see it more clearly, you could probably see more clearly how anal I am. Yes, I shot everything on a pale pink faux fur throw! And yes, I rated everything based on wearability. But hey, typing in all my comments means I can search by color, brand, size, where and when I bought something, what it is, friggin' everything. The real challenge is basically like, how can I come up with a way of putting together outfits on the screen. It'll probably never happen, but at least next time I'm bitching about how I don't any embellished cardigans, I can search "embellished cardigan" and find out that I have five. Then its just a matter of tracking them down in the clown car.

[As if my post wasn't embarrassing enough, yes I'm reading more Gossip Girl. I can't help it! This one even had a Vassar shout-out. Plus it's not like I keep it to myself. I share the joy by reading aloud any line that makes me laugh out loud (e.g., "'See you tomorrow, bitchface,' she said tenderly"). Let's face it, I'm a clotheshorse, I'm quick with the catty remarks, and I can't spend my whole life reading literary fiction and obscure sociology! You know you love me, TinyPants] Currently Reading: "Gossip Girl: Nothing Can Keep Us Together" (Cecily von Ziegesar)

Don't nobody worry 'bout me

So, today is a big day! I was leaving some seller feedback on Amazon and one of their little like, lists popped up -- "New recommendations for you" or some crap. Anyway, it seems that at long last, not just season 3, but also season 4 of Miami Vice have at long last made it to DVD!! If you could understand how badly I freaked out, I would try to make you understand it. Like, I wonder if people get this excited when they realize they've found the cure for some disease or something.

Anyway. I've been away for a while. As seen below, I finally realized my dream of reading trashy Gossip Girl novels by a pool. However, instead of freezing my balls off in San Diego, my parents were visiting and we went out into the desert. In the desert it's in the 70s, so you can go by the pool. However, as much as I did get my love of both reading and tanning from my parents, there were also a lot of genes that like weren't inherited or whatever, which is how yours truly wound up hiking in Joshua Tree.

I know, hiking. My parents have always had a thing about outdoorsy stuff, even though certain others of us never really have (I feel like one of my older outdoors memories is of my dad crossly saying, "This isn't the !#$%ing Bataan Death March!" and realizing that, in said death march scenario, I would probably just get shot or whatever pretty quickly). If you're picturing me in those dopey Manolo/Timberland stiletto things that were popular five years ago, no, I wore sneakers. It wasn't that bad. Being out in the like, desert air or whatever refreshed me. It cleared my mind. And with my mind clear, in the middle of a multi-hour hike up a mountain, I found that only one thing filled my mind -- "I'm Alright (Theme from Caddyshack)" by Kenny Loggins. It's on Bender's mixtape for a desert island, and apparently, it's on mine too. Why god, why?

Taking a road trip with my parents as I guess what you could call an adult (in spite of my penchant for YA novels) was pretty bizarre. Mostly, it was like, even more swearing as my mom feared my dad's driving, my dad hated my mom's constant complaining about his driving, and of course my brother is just a bottomless pit of obscenities and bathroom humor (My mom: "What do you think that 'B' on that mountain stands for?" My brother: "Boobs! Buttcheeks!" [an hour later] My brother: [laughter] "Boobs!"). Anyway, I managed to navigate that F-bomb minefield by watching The O.C. on my video iPod. I know that like, the video iPod sort of like, whatever, I was missing the whole driving-around-in-a-rental-car-with-your-family experience, but trust me, it was necessary. If you read a transcript of our drive, you'd be like huh, this George Carlin special seems pretty unfunny. Why does George Carlin keep quoting the Borat movie? I never realized how much George Carlin liked Weekend at Bernie's, too. (My brother memorizes movies.)

So anyway, the desert was fine. Dry, dusty, full of rock-climbing-gear-clad hippies and coyotes who seem to time their howling to exactly when you fall asleep. I thought I had all this like, clever crap to say about it, but I think I forgot. I'm a little worried this blog, though meager by real-blog standards, has nevertheless grown enough that now it is at like, the point where as something is happening, its sort of like, hmm, I can blog about this later. Or like I'll write an email to someone and be like, oh, that was a humorous turn of phrase, I can use that. It probably makes people hate me to have me write them an email, and then it turns out it's sort of a draft of a blog post. But whatever, at least that means they're reading this crap.

[So, this one was kind of awesome. Slightly less smoking, slightly more lesbian innuendo. Damn! I need to get on the trashy YA gravy train. It's more fun than chick lit, cause I guess since they're teenagers they apparently don't feel the need for all this 'morality' or whatever. There's no happy ending, just more catching your boyfriend naked in a bathtub with your supposed best friend, so the only way to make yourself feel better is apparently public, drunken nudity. Hey its better than wrapping the book up with another stupid wedding, right?] Currently Reading: "Gossip Girl: Nobody Does It Better" (Cecily von Zeigesar)

Spring Broke

So in the neverending battle of me vs. all the shit I have to do, I'm actually winning a little bit. I still have to write one more paper, but I tackled the monster-size one (and wound up hitting the 35 page limit -- day-umm, but you know me, I'm mad verbose). Anyway though, today I like, even did a load of laundry AND took the unprecendented step of putting it away instead of leaving it like, clean but wrinkled and wadded into a giant bag on my floor for three days minimum. Half the stuff in there was like huh, I own this? This is why my closet/dressers are seriously, like clown cars. I wind up just grabbing the clown closest to the top, since I don't have time for them to all come out and do their act. But there's some good stuff in there, I think.

Sigh, maybe it's time for a cleanout. That would be a good idea since lately I really, really seem to want to go shopping all the time. I think it's mostly though just that I don't feel like doing my work, and since its been cold (below 70) I can't work on my tan. Lord knows all I really want to do is like, go hang out at the beach/pool with like, Lucky, Teen Vogue, and an assload of Gossip Girl novels and just like, forget about academia and basically everything else on earth for a while. But it's not warm enough to do that, so instead my impulse is to go shopping.

Question: When did I last go shopping? Ummm, uh-oh. It has been almost three weeks! I was hoping I'd consult the little dashboard calendar thing and realize it was yesterday, but it's been kind of a while. (I actually just typed "kind of a wild." I think I'm a bit weary of typing.) And I still haven't worn one of the things I bought that day, but that is totally on a technicality. I bought a tie-dyed terry Juicy hoodie -- okay whatever, it is California, all I wear here is Juicy Couture bullshit. Okay not all I wear, but I wear it frequently. Plus tie-dye, lord knows I'm a sucker for tie-dye.

The other thing I bought that I haven't worn yet is a really cute, really flattering Marimekko sundress. It hasn't been warm enough to wear it, and even when it is warm, who knows when I'll ever have an occasion here that is like, formal enough to merit it (see comment re: universality of sweatpants above). I really like it though. I was like, mm, it's kind of bright, but it was half off, and hell if nothing else it looks good in its clown car with my bushel of Lilly Pulitzer, C.Ronson, and random vintage sundresses. So see? I'm not even sure what clothing it is I believe I want, since if I want it I probably already have 35 of it.

So speaking of cold and finishing up schoolwork and whatnot, I've learned recently that apparently for some, San Diego is a spring break destination. Who? People from Minnesota who will think 62 degrees and extremely windy is warm? Anchorman junkies? I have no idea. SD seems like a weird place to come to. For one, it's not that warm, and thus not conducive to wet t-shirt contests unless you're some kind of sadist. For two, it for the most part lacks a true strip of like, bland hotels + cheesy bars + beach as like an all-in-one deal, which would seem to inhibit the like, constant semi-nude drunken roaming around? Bottom line: I don't know what I'm talking about since I've never truly "done" spring break, but like, I've seen enough Girls Gone Wild ads to get the picture.

How does that always wind up coming up? No idea. But yeah apparently spring break in San Diego is big enough to merit some sort of MySpace "Hottest Hotties" event. Where was I when the search for San Diego's "MySpace Hotties" was going on? Hmm, based on those featured in the banner ad that they will not stop showing above everything I do, my most obvious disqualifiers are that my profile pic a) shows my face and b) does not show my breasts. Oops! Why is "hotness" so crucial to online identity? I think that's why every time I put up a "MySpace Hottie"-esque pic (tho my idea of what constitutes one is much tamer than theirs -- more "MySpace Cutie" I guess) I follow it up by putting up an explicitly "not hot" photo.

You'd think I'd think harder about what I had to say before I started typing. I think I sort of did -- it was like spring break --> MySpace hotties --> San Diego is pointless --> at least I did my laundry --> I want to go shopping --> I constantly reward myself for minor accomplishments. Like duh, you know since I finished my monster paper, it was like, congratulations self! Technically I rewarded myself while writing the paper, with both the Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf but also with a chocolate malt from Hodad's... dude those are mad good! If you live in San Diego, go to Hodad's, it's in OB. Oh if you're a vegetarian don't go, there is nothing for you there. Well no wait, you could still get a malt, so, whatever. Anyway, they bring you a ginormous malt in the like metal cup it gets made in, but they float like practically a pint of ice cream covered in chocolate syrup on top of it. It is difficult to finish even with two people working on it. But yeah it's maddddd good. It's five bucks, but there's so much damn ice cream in there I wouldn't be surprised if they lose money on them.

Also while I was in OB, there are like a zillionty antique stores there that part of me is like "omg I need to go back stat" and part of me is like "remember the clown car closets? Your whole apartment is sort of like a clown car full of old stuff. It's like a big clown car. Like a clown SUV! Stop cramming stuff in there." But like I saw this one chair -- I know, a chair, right? Cause I already have two armchairs in my apartment that are just for the "look" and are only ever sat in by the dog -- anyway I saw this incredible antique chair. It was like, a dressing room chair, really small, really low, and asymmetrical, with this great angled back -- like a chaise lounge but without the lounge aspect? If I ever bought it I'd have to also buy a silk kimono-style robe, and always wear heels and lipstick when I was at home. Maybe also get a princess phone? Yeah this is how I wound up living in a clown SUV.

Haha also because point of this whole story is, I bought myself flowers today in spite of the fact that my parade roses are still going strong. I bought a big, inexpensive bouquet and broke it up when I got home (I think this idea is genius, but you know, if you're the type who thinks having cut flowers in every room of your house is scary, pointless, old lady-like, or all three, you probably just think I'm a total crackpot. How did you manage to even read this far?). Anyway, I put the like, single random rose (why is there always one rose in mixed bouquets?) in a single-stem vase in my bedroom. I put the gerbera daisies (super-bright, deep pink -- I know they're cheesy and sort of mid-90s, but I like gerberas) by my kitchen sink. I put the stargazer lilies with some of the greenery (big leaves) in a cylinder vase by my computer (so I'm looking at those now). Then I took the filler -- crappy purple daisy-type flowers and this sort of spiky stuff with tiny flowers on it -- and arranged those in this cool vintage vase and put them in the bathroom. Yes, the bathroom. Flowers are officially in every room. If it were warmer here, I could open all my blinds and pretend I live in a greenhouse. If I ever own a house -- okay, best case scenario, if I ever settle relatively permanently in one place -- I am going to go all Umbrellas of Cherbourg on it. Patterns, patterns, more patterns, color, color, color. Oh man, somebody stop me. No not from my awesome plan to own patterned wallpaper, I just mean like, from blogging about it.

[I'm such a loser! No books at the moment... I just returned all my books from my big paper to the library this morning, and I'm not letting myself start any new books till I finish my last paper. I've been reading the style issue of The New Yorker, which is probably a really bad influence -- every bitch they interview has closets that are the size of living rooms, and it's all like, "Oh, this is the one for workout wear." "This is the one for couture." Grr. If I had that kind of space, I might notice some of the stuff I own and maybe wear it! Or I might be even crazier than I am now... none of the rooms in my apartment are currently devoted exclusively to storage, and probably that is for the best.]

Halfway there.

I'm listening to "Africa" by Toto right now. It is seriously one of the best songs ever. No, I'm not being ironic, say that again and I will punch you in the mouth. Now I am listening to Joe Cocker's "Woman to Woman," a.k.a. the piano sample in "California Love" to you laymen. Sorry y'all, it is the end of the quarter and I am mad underslept, so I am feeling pretty spunky.

I'm finally like, not THAT sick (I no longer sound like Doctor Girlfriend, and I can make it a few hours without coughing up a lung) but I kept having to get up mad early this week, so I am mad tired now. Last night I kept having all my weird end-of-the-quarter stress dreams, which made no sense. Usually they involve my being in an intense relationship with someone gratuitously inappropriate, and me spending the whole dream accepting their advances while wondering how the hell this has happened.

Seriously, listening to Cypress Hill is like jumping in a freakin' time machine back to high school. I wonder what all those guys who put tons of Cypress Hill stuff on their yearbook pages listen to now. Doesn't Muggs have a new album with someone random out now? Can't remember. I remember the remix of this song better than the version of it I'm listening to now, you know the one with the big "Duke of Earl" sample.

Anyway! Obviously since I'm feeling mad verbose when it comes to talking about anything irrelevant, you know what that means. I'm on page 12ish of the 25-page beast. There are a bunch of intro paras that I still need to do, so that should bump me out further, and of course, I haven't done any of the like actual analysis yet -- I'm about to finish my lit review. I type everything in the correct font size but single-spaced, and today was the first time I selected all and threw it into double-space to see how far I actually am.

This paper could potentially kick a little ass. It's about presentations of masculinity in heavy metal videos which are, duh, one of my favorite subjects ever. Remember that book I was reading like a while ago that I threw across the room cause I got tired of men whining about how hard they have it? Anyway, turns out, if you like, ignore all the cry-time, he actually has a pretty useful framework for understanding strategies for the maintenance of hegemonic masculinity in the United States. This framework can be applied to heavy metal videos and, lo and behold y'all, it can be made to explain basically every common trope of heavy metal videos ever. Even the totally weird ones, like all the videos where the band's performance in a warehouse space is discovered and observed by a bum (examples would include Brittny Fox's "Long Way to Love" and Skid Row's "I Remember You"). I'm only just coming up on that part of the paper, which should be enjoyable, except for after I'm done writing it when I will inevitably have to go back through and sanitize it, removing any signs of my excitement about my paper topic (e.g., "mad," "friggin' awesome") or any possible mentions of like, Nikki Sixx's hotness... or George Lynch's extreme hotness... okay, wiping drool off keyboard.

For some reason that was making me think of, I think it was like the cover story of New York or maybe just a feature last year, the gist of it was "the new monogamy." Oh I found it, and that's what it was called. Anyway, most of it was like ew, control yourselves or whatever. A lot of it seemed like asking for trouble. But the whole "desert island" idea does have a certain appeal -- I think it's from a Friends episode or some ridiculously lame thing like that, but the gist of it is, you pick this certain number of people (usually celebrities), and in the context of your monogamous relationship, it's like, if you ever actually find yourself in a situation where you could hook up with someone from your pleasure island (wait what was it called? Fantasy island? I didn't bother to re-read the article -- listening to a bunch of boring neo-yuppies talk about their exploits at cake parties isn't exactly my idea of fun -- kay yeah even though I did read the article at least once).

Anyway! It's like, if I declared George Lynch, Nikki Sixx, Jeff Keith, Jeff Pilson, Warren DeMartini, and hopefully at least one person under 30 as like, the residents of my pleasure/desert/fantasy island, and then I actually managed to like, wind up in a compromised position with them, that would be okay. The unfortunate thing is like, your partner also gets to pick a list, so if he ever winds up in some kind of situation with like, I don't even know, that stupid white-haired pixie with the leather bikini and rabbit ears from Final Fantasy, he gets a free pass. So maybe fantasy/pleasure/desert islands aren't the answer. I don't remember how I started talking about this, and I should probably stop before I like, make things even worse.

But also like, side-note: I just listened to "Check Yo'Self" by Ice Cube (yes, a bunch of tracks from GTA: SA are in the mix atm). Question: Why did Ice Cube not take his own advice when signing on for this Are We Done Yet? movie? Seriously, is it not bizarre that the author of "You Can't Fade Me" is now like, the ultimate family man? Guess he finally put down that clothes hanger.... Okay, I'm getting gratuitously inappropriate (but hey, within the frame of making crafty cultural references that can make me feel all proud of myself for making them and you feel all proud of yourself if you're getting them). I sound like such an ass, I can't believe how many people read (or if not read, at least click on) this blog. Anyway y'all I need a frappucino.

[This is one of my favorite books ever. I first read it in 1998 or 1999, but I remember reading the review of it in Rolling Stone in 1993 when it came out (since RS are morons, they didn't totally love it). The author is a musicologist at UCLA, he was mostly working at Dartmouth when he was writing this though. He is the man! The guy who wrote that incredible book about Metallica (which I also still have checked out and am also using for this paper) friggin' totally went to UCLA just to study with him. Apparently that worked out, which is awesome. I'd like to meet him, but I'd prob either freak out or nerd out, like correcting him that when he says a KISS song is playing on the radio in the beginning of a Poison video, it is actually a Poison cover of a KISS song. Oh snap!

Also in terms of what I'm really reading, like not for school, yeah I finished the JCO (it didn't get any better). I'm catching up on the New Yorker and embarrassingly also Cosmo. This month they feature the world's most twisted and self-hating anti-wrinkle tips which lord knows I'll probably wind up following. "Try not to make expressions when you're talking on the phone!" You're supposed to put Scotch tape on your face, so that way if the tape pops off, you can tell you are being too expressive. Dude come on, you know I am not making this shit up. I probably need to do this tho looking at the mad brow furrows on my current profile pic.] Currently Reading: "Running with the Devil: Power, Gender, and Madness in Heavy Metal Music" (Robert Walser)

Grand Theft Mad mp3s

So it is the end of the quarter, I'm still friggin' sick, and I have a 25-page paper due in like, a week and 15 hours, and so with all this pressure, I could only think one thing: Wait, did Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas have a soundtrack box set?

Two things led to this realization. Well, five things if you count the three I already listed. The other two were that I listen to some of the discs from the Grand Theft Auto: Vice City boxed set pretty often, and on Friday night, I was in my car and randomly put on the radio, and this one station here (which I usually characterize as proof that "independent" doesn't have to mean good) was playing some kind of Friday night 90s show. Now, as someone who announced an imminent 90s revival in 2001, I wasn't like, shocked or what have you, but I did hear "Head Like a Hole" for the first time in many, many years. Then on my drive home I heard it again.

So anyway, Saturday morning I was all like, okay, time to start this paper. But then I decided to take a shower. But then before I even made it to the shower, I had my GTA: SA realization (while Emotion 98.3 from GTA: VC was on as it happens) and was like, proceed directly to internet. Anyway, let's just say I made short work of that, and quickly had 10 stations worth of San Andreas. I skipped the unfunny commercials and jingles and quickly deleted the house station (SF-UR), but still that leaves me with nine stations.

How does it stack up to Vice City?
1) My like -- nay, love -- for the 80s is much greater than for the 90s, plus the 80s had better music.
2) But that sort of doesn't matter, because only like, half the stations in SA are 90s-oriented, many play older music. VC is much more all 80s, all the time.
3) The San Andreas DJs talk on top of the music. Like the Vice City DJs, but even less funny.
4) Vice City has much better artwork.
5) Vice City reminds me of Miami Vice. I wonder if Vice City Stories has a soundtrack? Hmm, write that down...
6) No, the closest I have come to playing any of these games is enjoying the commercials. Which I do enjoy! Like Miami Vice, they make it look like, you know, a stylish life of crime filled with heaping helpings of T&A and Phil Collins.

Anyway though, I have been enjoying it. The 90s-oriented stations are the best, I'd say, particularly the gangsta rap station (Radio Los Santos) and the sort of like new jack swing station (CSR 103.9). Where else can you find New Edition reunited? Okay maybe on some ridiculous reality show in Bobby Brown's mind, but CSR 103.9 also gets him back together with Johnny Gill and Bel Biv DeVoe, which is pretty amazing.

Even the non-90s mixes are good, and are definitely songs that it's easy to imagine like, driving around committing crimes to, like Juice Newton's "Queen of Hearts" or "Hold the Line" by Toto. Even the reggae station is decent. Again, as mentioned, I couldn't make it through the house station, but you know, I probably was never intended to have a Frankie Knuckles song in my iTunes.

[Today this book led me to have a major, major, major realization about heavy metal videos, specifically visual representation of bands in videos for power ballads, that kind of... I think I kind of blew my own mind. Also, this book (since it is pretty heavy on tv of the 80s -- it was a section on The A-Team that led to my realization) contains some amazing passages about Miami Vice so you know I love that. So this proves that contrary to popular belief, I have been doing some work. Although, you know, it took six+ hours to listen to all of the GTA] Currently Reading: "Television Culture" (John Fiske)

Better one, or two?

So I live alone and I'm a girl and yeah I don't get out much so blablabla, all that is separating me from being a crazy cat lady is well, cats. (Technically I have two cats, but they live back east with my parents.) But like, is it just as bad to own a lot of plants?

I had a friend visit last weekend, and she was like, uhhh, what's with all the flowers? And I was like hmmm I guess you don't read my blog (but I only thought that, saying that would be super lame), but then I was like you know, I have a bad day, I buy myself flowers. And I must say I buy the right flowers -- organic or locally grown or ideally both (after reading this scary Vanity Fair story that included stuff about the ecological destructiveness of cut-flower farming in Kenya, I always check). Also, I have a collection of nice vintage vases that I like to display (my furniture is all really modern or like really not, so I like having a really old-school looking vase on like, a minimalist shelf thingy or whatever). Anyway my mom collects a really specific kind of pottery from the 1920s-1930s, so when she accidentally eBays something that wasn't what she wanted or if she is just looking at mad pottery and like sees some funky pink thing, she'll get it for me. Anyway, I have a bunch of vases.

So when this friend came over there was in addition to the jade plant that's been on the kitchen table the whole time (jade plants are virtually indestructible, and thus an obvious choice -- it's actually grown a decent amount since I've had it), a large amount of carnations (yes! the same carnations I bought pre-Valentine's Day!), a few irises in the friggin' bathroom, and a miniature rose bush on the coffee table. I've since had to get rid of the cut flowers, but yes, I was even like, mixing up the little flower food water and stuff, that's how I made those carnations last three weeks.

Anyway I really like tea roses, but apparently mini roses are much hardier. Plus $4 for a plant! So yeah... possibly I am turning into a plant lady. I look at the little rose bush, wonder if it is getting enough light and humidity. I effing prune it, okay people? And it is actually doing good, it seems. It has some new growth. It is mad spreading out like it has ambitions of being a friggin' rose bush. So I don't think I'm doing half bad. Yeah, it's growing in a vase, but the secret to that is just like, put a few rocks in the very bottom? For fake drainage. It seems to work and circumvent the whole no-holes-in-the-bottom-of-the-pot situation. You probably can sort of tell from my bad photography, but I picked (surprise) pink roses. They sort of shade to white, which I like (like peppermint roses -- yes I worked at a wedding magazine, please don't be surprised that I know the names of rose varieties). As possibly previously mentioned, I'm a sucker for flowers with two colors in them.

Also in the crazy cat lady vein, yesterday was my dog's birthday. She's four! Can you believe it? I can't. Anyway, I went to a pet store -- not the super fancy one, but better than Petco -- to get her a birthday gift (I wound up picking out a pink bone, she likes to chew stuff like that and my apartment is a little maxed out on fetch toys that I constantly accidentally step on right now). Anyway, they're all like, oh, a birthday? Turns out that they have a whole dog birthday section of the store. I'm not kidding. So I picked her out a cookie -- that looks totally edible by humans, but is so not -- it is like a round iced sugar cookie looking thing that says "Happy Birthday" on it. (They sell stuff like this in a lot of pet stores here, which is funny cause you'd never see the human version in a human food store -- people would be all ewww, processed sugar? And for the most part, the women who own fancy little dogs and the women who would eat said cookies are not the same woman. Oh, except for me, that is like, my favorite kind of cookie.)

Anyway, they also had like hats, costumes, banners, all kinds of stuff. And they're like oh, don't you want the platter? They have these like giant platters of birthday-theme dog treats. And I was like oh no, she's a pomeranian, I'm going to have to break this into like 100 pieces as it is. And they're like (look of shock) -- you're not throwing her a party? Implication: A party for other dogs who would be eating said cookies. I was like ohh umm, no. But my mind was pretty much blown. Apparently, along with everything else about southern California that is insane, dog birthday parties are the norm. I sort of already knew this. Still, I managed to avoid buying her the tiny dog wifebeater which said (in rhinestones) "MY MOM IS HOT." (They also had "Mommy's Single" -- ummmm, between the tiny dog and the sentiment expressed on that dog's shirt, and the fact that the dog is wearing a shirt, I have a feeling mommy's gonna stay single -- for a LONG time.)

[I actually read this book last weekend, sorry my order is all screwed up. I am still working on the Goffman. AND I am like within 50 pages of finishing the Joyce Carol Oates. Have I mentioned that the anthology is organized by decade? Anyway, it starts with the 2000s, so I'm in the 1990s now which is the last section. Apparently in the 90s JCO was really into rape. A housewife was raped in the last one and shit, that one made me have to sleep with the lights on (is literary fiction supposed to be this scary? How come JCO isn't painted with the 'genre' brush as is say Steven King, who is also ps a much better writer than her?). Also the previous story had twin ten-year-old girls being raped. But oh then afterward they were partially dismembered with an ice pick, so don't worry, JCO hasn't given up on gore. Seriously, she's disturbed.] Currently Reading: "Self-Made Men: Identity and Embodiment Among Transsexual Men" (Henry Rubin)

March iPod Update!!

Yeah dude I've been sick. It sucks, I haven't felt like I have much to talk about except coughing, congestion, and feeling feverish. It's like, oh, the quarter's ending, I have an asstastic amount of work that I have to get done, what could make this better? Apparently god thought lodging a ton of phlegm in my chest cavity would do the trick. Anyway y'all let me hook up the iPod and see what's the deal.

1) Ivan Ives, "Red Scare" (Last month's position: 2, Months on chart: 4)

New Number One! Oh shit! After eight months of Ratt reign, we finally have a new number one! Who would have thought it possible?

2) Ratt, "Back for More" (Last month's position: 1, Months on chart: 8)

3) Great White, "Stick It" (Last month's position: 3, Months on chart: 4)

4) Poison, "Ride the Wind" (Last month's position: 4, Months on chart: 8)

5) Faster Pussycat, "Babylon" (Last month's position: 5, Months on chart: 8)

6) Ivan Ives and Scubacop, "Shout" (Last month's position: 6, Months on chart: 4)

7) Armored Saint, "No Reason to Live" (Last month's position: 7, Months on chart: 8)

8) Ceschi, "Calluses" (Last month's position: 8, Months on chart: 5)

9) Kix, "Body Talk" (Last month's position: 17, Months on chart: 8) Greatest Gainer!

10) Great White, "On Your Knees" (Last month's position: 9, Months on chart: 8)

11) Metallica, "Whiplash" (Last month's position: 10, Months on chart: 8)

12) Bow Wow Wow, "Aphrodisiac" (Last month's position: 16, Months on chart: 2)

13) The Gun Club, "She's Like Heroin to Me" (Last month's position: 11, Months on chart: 2)

14) London, "Rainbow Bar & Girls" (Last month's position: 12, Months on chart: 3)

15) Misfits, "Hybrid Moments" (Last month's position: 13, Months on chart: 8)

16) T.S.O.L., "Abolish Government" (Last month's position: 14, Months on chart: 4)

17) Talk Talk, "It's My Life" (Last month's position: 15, Months on chart: 3)

18) Fergie, "London Bridge" (Last month's position: 22, Months on chart: 3)

19) Gorillaz, "Kids With Guns" (Last month's position: n/a, Months on chart: 1)

Blame it on The O.C., yo. The program's recent demise has led to extensive listening of its soundtrack (I downloaded all of them except the newest one, which seems pretty bad, and the Chrismukkah one, cause why the hell would I want to listen to indie rock covers of Christmas music, but what I lack in legitimate soundtrackage I make up for with additional like, songs that were played on the show but did not make it onto the soundtrack). Anyway. I can't quite remember which episode this song is in, it is I think though when Seth and Ryan are randomly at spring break in Florida. I'm surprised that of the soundtrack songs that this was the one that made it this high.

20) Interpol, "The Specialist" (Last month's position: n/a, Months on chart: 1)

Again, from The O.C.. I have no idea what episode this song is used in, for all I remember Interpol might have even freakin' played at the Bait Shop. Fear not, you know I'll wind up downloading the entire series and watching it on the ol' video iPod (to clarify, the iPod Most Listened comes from "Pod You Like a Hurricane," which is an iPod Photo and contains only music. "iPod You to Pod Me" is a video iPod which contains only video, I got it for free and now have found I can't imagine life without it. I also still have "Last Night An iPod Saved My Life," which is a first gen iPod [the wheel clicks!] that still works, I mostly just use it as like a backup drive). Anyway lately on the video Pod I've been watching old Mystery Science Theater 3000, I downloaded a whole bunch of those. Last night I was watching "Alien From L.A." which stars Kathy Ireland and is as good as it sounds. Anyway! Interpol! Yeah of Interpol I've always said "If I wanted to listen to Joy Division, I'd just listen to Joy Division." But this song is quite good. I mean, heaven knows I do like Joy Division.

21) Misfits, "Hollywood Babylon" (Last month's position: 18, Months on chart: 3)

22) Montrose, "Rock Candy" (Last month's position: 19, Months on chart: 8)

23) Poison, "I Won't Forget You" (Last month's position: 20, Months on chart: 8)

24) Dokken, "Walk Away" (Last month's position: n/a, Months on chart: 6)

This track was off the charts for a few months, I guess I've been listening to it cause it's Back for the Attack (actually this song is the one non-live track on Beast from the East).

25) The Doors, "Peace Frog" (Last month's position: 21, Months on chart: 3)

Okay other than the new number one, not that thrilling, sorry. All that got booted was a recent addition from Ratt and two permutations of Warrant.

[Can you believe it, reading for school and I am actually doing it? I had actually forgotten how enjoyable Goffman is to read -- he uses really entertaining examples to illustrate things, and his manner of writing is really refreshing, especially for theory. He seems possible obsessed with horses, too. Just in like, the very first bit I read, he mentions "horses with mathematical inclinations" and there is a lengthy anecdote about the autopsy of this horse that the owners claim was killed by aliens. Also, he did a lot of fieldwork in Las Vegas, so many of his examples are about how casinos operate, which is fairly interesting. My brother is obsessed with all of those like, cheesy Travel Channel shows about Vegas, so it's sort of like that. Actually I've been getting all my reading done early this week, maybe that's how you know I'm sick.] Currently Reading: "Frame Analysis" (Erving Goffman)