January 2012
15 posts
Got halfway through washing my dishes before I realized I was just wearing jeans, a bra, a scarf, and rubber gloves.
And I have no recollection of the events that lead to that outfit.
I’m really tired. And today was really stressful. If my body wants to auto-pilot through my chores that’s fine. It can do whatever it wants.
WatchTim Bavington/Feodor Vornov opening I shot at the Mark Moore Gallery with Will.
I just had to retrieve my car from 4 blocks away, because I live in Hollywood, and my street was packed tight last night.
Almost immediately I see a methy-dude doing methy things walking towards me on the sidewalk. He’s taking off his shirt and shaking it off. I make eye contact with him and think about crossing over to the other side of the street. Just as we’re about to pass, he...
My sister used to drive me to school every day in her 1989 Cabriolet convertible, which would later become my first car.
One morning, as she was backing out of our driveway, she somehow managed to reverse in to the driver side door of my brother’s brand new (to him), black pick-up truck.
It crunched loud and deep, and we both did the terrible act of continuing the drive to school.
My...
December 2011
10 posts
My mom came over to my apartment for the first time since I moved in today.
“It’s so cute! And it doesn’t smell at all like cats!”
…
“It does smell like weed though.”
-Just spent 30 minutes driving around, trying to find parking. Forgot I live in Hollywood. Forgot it was Friday. Forgot it was 10pm.
-Found a spot 4 blocks away.
-Realized that the gift for my niece I gave up Starbucks for was in my backseat, and there was no way I was gonna leave it in my hatchback on a foreign street.
-Hauled/Dragged/Piggybacked a Fisher Price Jumperoo 4 blocks through...
I bought “Fallow” and “Left and Leaving” on vinyl at the Tower Records store I could walk to from my house. I’d heard “Aside” on that punk music video show that aired at 1am on UPN. I had gotten a record player for Christmas. I was 15.
I didn’t listen to either for awhile. I gave them casual listens until I started spinning it all the time. I...
November 2011
13 posts
Come on, LA.
Let’s do this right.
I'm terrible at banter.
Yes. Let’s talk about laundry. Because we’re in the laundry room.
Whenever homeless people are having mumbly fights outside my window, I just pretend they are speaking French. Then I can trick myself in to thinking there is simply a lively debate going on over which arrondissement makes the best croissants.
Re-occurring problems of my 25th year:
-Wine stained sheets.
-Pizza burned mouth.
-Never getting past text messages. (I DO want to see you again. I just work 60 hours a week and spend my weekends with the my infant niece, who is the closest thing I will ever have to a child.)
So yeah. Forever alone.
“So I really like this band, Brian Jonestown Massacre…”
“I really liked the event.”
I like watching my friends get hit on by dudes at bars. Their so much better at it than I am.
2 tags
LA is lonely when it’s cold.
October 2011
12 posts
Telling my heart to keep it’s head up.
(Only put in what you know you’ll get out.)
According to signs posted all over Hollywood Blvd, it is illegal to possess, sell, or otherwise distribute Silly String in Hollywood from midnight tonight until noon Monday.
Unless it’s being used for medical purposes, of course.
Also, when a dude sends you a picture of their bed, that means they want to bone, right?
And the best response is to just make sure they got their call time, right?
If I had a lawsuit for every time I got sexually harassed on set…
I’d have a small settlement. And I’d never work again.
After the drought:
When it rains, it fucking pours.
Left work crying because my sister sent me pictures of Lilly’s first smile, and what am I doing in a job that puts me so far away from the things (people) that make me happy, and where good things only happen to bad people?
Then I got home to a bottle of cab, and was given an opportunity to do something good for one of the good ones.
Just trying to keep the world in balance.
For the rest of my life:
Any chance I get, to sleep in someone else’s bed with someone else’s dog, I will take.
Nothing better, than foreign beds and foreign dogs, both comfortable with you comfortable in them.
I never sleep better.
Shitty realizations:
I am absolutely happiest when my work is hard and stressful. I worked harder today than I have since I started this goddamn tv show.
My head is clearest and my energy highest at the precise moment the shit hits the fan.
One of my co-workers asked today, completely seriously,
“Who is this Steve Jobs guy?”
My other, much more patient co-worker explained, “Uh, he co-founded apple.”
“Oh, is that why he keeps popping up on my screen? Did he die?”
At this point, I’m like, “Seriously, dude?” Because I’m not a nice person.
“I didn’t know who...