Cheerio!

Ashley and I just watched Juno on a big screen TV in a nice place that she is house-sitting. I love that girl.

Oh, and:

I got a typewriter! It's amazing.

And there's an equally as amazing story to go along with it. I will share that later.

The cologne is still lingering on my scarf. I want to bury my nose into it and smell it until I can smell no more, but I'm afraid that I will rid it of this eau de bonheur. After what I can only describe as a tumultuous and confusing past few days, there was no better way to end the weekend.

I decided that I need to simplify my life. Last year, it was the agony of a lonely single life. I spent my freshman year dreaming, wishing, obsessing over that one without much to boast for in terms of love (or lust). This year, this semester, things have changed, but not necessarily for the better. There is still that agony of a single life, but not as lonely this time. But that kind of life, though endlessly entertaining and often times pleasurable, is not for me. It's bewildering, hectic, dangerous.

Thus, I am running away again. This time to London, and for a much more temporary frame of time. I will be back soon, perhaps sooner than I want to return. Either way, this is a good way for me to distance myself from the shit I have gotten myself into.





Peter's a good man, and that Coco Chanel knows it, too.

Life is just so damn funny sometimes, you can't help but laugh.
In other news, I'm coming home in two weeks.

Everything dances when you listen to this music. Everything.

I bought Black Orpheus today and watched it tonight. It's an incredible movie. I bawled my eyes out. While listening to this brilliant Brazilian music, I went downstairs for a smoke.

Outside, the wind was blowing furiously, making it hard to even get my lighter to work. When it finally did, I cozied up in an inlet to my building, so as to avoid the wind. With that ça, ça, ça, ça floating in my ear canals, I watched the wind blow leaves and trash into a flurry of dance. Everything -- from golden leaflets left from fall to plastic bags puffed full of air -- sambaed around the streets in circles of celebration. Maybe the movie influenced me, or maybe the music I was listening to on those little white ear buds swayed my mindset, but it felt like Carnival. Carnival on Lafayette.

At some point in my life, I need to go to Carnival.

Those people you want to be friends with, I was with them.

Those people you want to be friends with, they know Josh Hartnett.

I met Josh Hartnett.

It has been demonstrated that guys with the name "Evan", of any sort, aren't good news for me.

But what about names that rhyme with it?

I'm Edie Sedgwick for Halloween!

That's one of my costumes, at least. (The others are a pot of gold to go along with my suite mates and their array of rainbow colors, and I will be Hunter S. Thompson in my Journalism class on Halloween.)

Danlly is going to be Andy Warhol, and despite the fact that he's Filipino, he pulls it off well. He has a white wig and lots of pale powder, Ray Bans, and a black turtleneck.

It's sheer brilliance.

Oh my, tomorrow is shaping up to be amazing.

First, I am having a party at my place. I am not actually hosting the party, but why shouldn't I partake in the festivities? That starts at 9 or so.

Then, there is the 5th Annual International Photography Awards Ceremony (www.lucieawards.com).

My friend's sister is the bouncer, so there should be no problem in getting in. There's an open bar and, as my friend Hana so succinctly put it: "Dress to impress and show yo fine selves at Splashlight Studios, decked and ready to get your crunk on with some of the world's finest contemporary photographers."

I'm so down.

Also, there's:

Event description: "Vogue Magazine calls House of Diehl 'Punk meets Warhol'... Michael Musto calls Style Battling 'the newest variation on krumping'

We'll be having 8 competing designers battling on stage for the title of New York Style Battle Champion.

Inspired by MC battling, and Victor & Rolf/Martin-Margiela radical fashion and bastard pop mash-up DJs, Style Battling is a head to head competition with fashion created live on stage, in a matter of minutes, using anything from a pair of jeans to an umbrella to a balenciaga bag. Competitors cut, tear, burn, spray-paint, and otherwise destroy/rebuild clothing, live on models or on people pulled from the audience.

House of Diehl have been all over the world, from supporting Sonic Youth in Europe, to performing to tens of thousands of people alongside Elton John and Versace at the Life Ball in Vienna, to shows at New York's fashion week... They are used to seeing thousands of jaws drop - and stay dropped!"

If you are a person pulled from the audience, you get to keep the clothes. They give away at least $40,000 worth of couture at every Style Battle.

I'm so down.



AND ON TOP OF ALL THAT...I'm going to the Continental. And, with that line-up of aforementioned events, I am going to try to look hot.

EXCITEMENT IS BREWING.

I'm back in LA. I'm running on about two or three hours of sleep.

In other news, I sat next to Kevin Kilner on the airplane. (http://imdb.com/name/nm0453273/)

YES, THE GUY FROM SMART HOUSE.

He's nice and we had a great conversation about addictions and bars and prom and hilarious stuff. He says he knows about the Daily Breeze and that he's going to look for my old articles, though I doubt that's true. He also said he's going to check out a bar I recommended, though I doubt that one as well.

I'm going to go nap for who knows how long.

I'm going to see Barack Obama speak, and then I'm going to get drunk.

EDIT: So I didn't get drunk after all, but that's probably better since it's now just past 1 am and I have shit to do. Instead, Carter (the one I met through Ratatat who got me into the Keren Ann show) told me he was in NY. He's managing the Jose Gonzalez tour. My friend Peter is really into Jose, so I took Peter and his friend Rachel. Rachel left early and Peter pretended to be my boyfriend so that Carter wouldn't expect a booty call from me. But Carter didn't catch on. One of his last texts to me read: "You'll have to give me a tour of the dorms. Do you live alone?"

I didn't respond.

What is my life?



( Thursday )

Afterwards, Cami and I went to the Continental. We ordered three rounds of five shots. I met the owner of the bar. His name is Trigger. He always wears an Asian straw hat that covers much of his face. I think he has some sort of scar or deformity that he's trying to hide, and he rather reminds me of Shredder from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles for that reason.



The only difference is that I can only see the bottom half of Trigger's face. I have never seen his eyes. I doubt Trigger is that buff, too.

Cami paid for the cab home and bought me a pack of cigarettes, so that made a tipsy me happy.

( Friday )

( Saturday )

I left while Mickey was downstairs. I caught a cab and made it home perfectly safely. I hope my disappearance makes that guy even more curious about me...

But seriously! From warriors to the Ramones, from my suite mates to Mickey -- what a strange weekend!

And now I'm detoxing. I feel a tad bit sick and I need to take it easy. I'm just going to wrap this up, do some reading, and go to sleep. Sounds perfect. Though tomorrow is Monday and I have an entire week of classes to get through, I have at least one thing to look forward to for this weekend: My next appearance at The Continental.

I bit my nails off today and I don't know why. I haven't done that in a while.

New York has been great to me so far. I think it missed me, too.

In the past two weeks, I have:
-been trashed out of my mind
-been to a black & white frat party?
-gotten in a verbal fight on 14th street
-been caught with my fake ID, but got it back in the best rejection from a bar ever
-become a regular at another bar (The Continental)
-hit on The Continental bar tender
-hit on a 32-year-old guy who looks 25
-been to a block party in Brooklyn
-danced at gay clubs and straight bars
-been to a gay show tunes bar and laughed my head off
-had several people (gay and straight) compliment my outfits and style (and how great that feels)

...and so much more.

Yet, it has also been a tough start. After a week of running around trying to figure out my schedule, I finally got it concreted. I am taking:

Intermediate French I
Literary Interpretation
Foundations of Journalism
British Literature I

They're not classes I particularly want to take, but they're all required. French is still fulfilling general requirements for me, and the other three are some of the earliest steps in the journalism and English majors at NYU.

I did find one class that I hope to take in the future: Photojournalism (Visual Reporting). The professor is awesome. He was the first photographer on the scene of 9/11. He was heading downtown to teach his class, heard the reports about the towers on the radio. He skipped class entirely and just drove down all the way to the Twin Towers. He was a Photojournalist but, apparently, since 9/11, he hasn't done any other real Photojournalism work (because of the trauma, or so rumor has it). He's an intelligent guy, and the class is geared towards making the students better prepared for jobs and the real world of journalism, and not just tooting the artsy fartsy horn, of which NYU is a proud keeper.

I applied for an internship that I really hope I get, but I don't want to say where it is until I know the outcome. I hope to find out this week.

I'm making myself look like a douche to my new editor at Washington Square News. I forgot to write the first story I was assigned. It wasn't a big deal because he was going to cut one anyway, but it still isn't a great first impression. And tonight, I missed the second meeting. I'm sure that I seem like a really reliable person right now. Fuck.

Otherwise, I'm just trying to get back in the swing of things, which is proving to be harder than anticipated. Instead, I'm getting back into old habits, such as avoiding doing work. I can't start that this early in the semester. Double fuck.

And I do miss people. Julie and I skyped the other day, and it reminded me of how easy it was to just call her at midnight and get her to watch some lame TV show with me. Now, not so much. It's sad.

I really miss Ashley, too. She's so sweet. I spied on her semi-boyfriend at his band's show, just to make sure he wasn't being unfaithful. The Shins are coming to New York and she said she's going to try to get me on the list. I've never seen them live before. And to think! If I can go, the first time I will ever seen this band that I have been listening to for years, I will be on the list! And not as a journalist...

Well, now that this entry is sufficiently longer than I intended for it to be and now that I have certainly let off some steam, I should go do something, whether that be work or sleep. Either one would benefit me greatly.

Four of my suite mates just invited me out to a bar. They're the ones that, from looking on Facebook, I thought seemed pretty cool. They were really cute about it.

"Yay roommate bonding!"

ps. This does NOT include the one who hooked up in the living room that one night.

Wow, don't you just love roommates? My room has a 3/4 wall that has cardboard covering the remaining 1/4 of the wall. Not a problem, I think. I went outside into the living room and could hear my music clearly (actually better, because the air conditioning was so loud in my room) and I was surprised. I felt bad, but I don't any more...because I can hear one of my roommates -- who I just met today -- hooking up in the living room. COOL. I just met the guy and (sorry if this is too much information) I can hear slight lip puckerings and rubbing cloth. It wouldn't be as bad, but I can also hear tiny girl whimpers of pleasure. What's even worse is that she has a stuffy nose!

It's natural and all, I know, but Christ! 3 am on the first night I meet my roomie and she's already tainting our couch? Fuck.

The subways look dirtier, the buildings seem taller, and the weather is hotter.
Are there more cute boys, or have I just been so deprived?



"Gotham's time has come."

Everything is happening during my last weekend in LA. Everything.

Yesterday was full of events. First, Ashley, Danlly and I went to Amoeba so Ashley could sell some of her CDs. After that, we went to The Standard, that really nice and amazing hotel in downtown LA. There was a pool party there with all sorts of DJs (one being Alex Ebert, the lead singer of Ima Robot). We went to the downtown Standard, went straight up to the pool on the roof, expecting a crazy party. It was...not what we expected. After some time loitering around the roof and seeping in the sights, we decided that this was NOT where the party was supposed to be. Turns out that this pool party was being held at the OTHER Standard, the one on Sunset. We had just been over in that area. We laughed.

We opted against the Tofu Festival that was going on and went straight to the Standard on Sunset. I was expecting skinny LA bitches and too-cool-for-you folks, but it surprisingly wasn't like that. Alex Ebert was the first person I saw when I walked into the hotel. I didn't say anything, but I've already met him so it wasn't a big deal. The party was offering free 40s from 12-1 and 4-5, but we were unfortunately not there during that time. Ashley, Danlly and I bought some drinks, took a seat on some fake grass and began people watching. It was really nice, actually. The beautiful people were greatly outnumbered by the normal people, which we appreciated. We didn't stay long, but we didn't need to.

Ashley and I remembered that we don't have any pictures together except for ones from her cell phone, so we went to the indie-photographer booth and got our photo taken. Then, we made our way out. I love being able to say that I went to a pool party at The Standard, even though the one on Sunset really is just a "dressed-up Best Western," according to Ashley. (She should know; she had an "affair" there.)

After that, we met up with my brother and walked to Sunset Junction from Ashley's place. We saw Sea Wolf, Autolux and Blonde Redhead. There were a lot of sound issues this year, which definitely sucked. Sea Wolf was really good. Ashley is helping her friend Cat on the new Sea Wolf video and she gets to dress the lead singer, who is ridiculously hot. She just kept talking about how she gets to "touch him all over". Not a bad job, I must say.

During Autolux, I realized I was standing right behind this girl who I had gone to elementary school with. I hadn't seen her since 4th grade, and there she was standing right in front of me! We hugged and chatted a little, but I didn't want to play "catch-up" or anything, so we just watched the show. Ashley, Tuomas, Danlly and I met up with Jonathan, this wonderful gay boy I met through Ashlin Malone.

The Blonde Redhead show sucked just because there were so many people. We couldn't even see the stage, no matter how much we tried to maneuver ourselves up into the crowd. We made our way out of the crowd and, funny thing, we could finally see the stage. But we had been there for hours and were tired. We went to this little store that was handing out free beers. Ashley and I took photo booth pictures. I think she's trying to get a bunch of pictures with me because I'm leaving soon and we have hardly taken any photos of us together this summer.

After some street dancing and flirting with gay boys, we went to this little art show at Found Gallery on Hyperion. Free drinks, stiff mint juleps, intriguingly vulgar art and cute boys playing instruments -- it was interesting. Tuomas had just gotten home that morning (at 2 am) so I could tell he was getting tired. Ashley and Danlly got a ride to Ashley's so they could get the car and pick Tuomas and me up.

They drove us back to Ashley's. Ashley wanted me to spend the night, but Tuomas was tipsy and jet-lagged -- not a good combination for driving. Colin's car broke down at Sunset Junction, so Tuomas and I went to pick up his friends. We drove to downtown LA where they live and checked out their really nice apartment. Nine hundred dollars a month is pretty steep though.

We had planned to go to the Check Yo' Ponytail party that night, but we were dead and could not muster the effort to do so. We came home and went to sleep.

Today, I'm throwing a party for my brother as a welcome home sort of thing. A bunch of his friends are coming, and so are some of mine. My dad is cooking, we have beer, and we have music. That's all we really need I think. It should be fun.

After that, Danlly and I may go to this party called "Society" or something. It's supposed to be this really hip, really chic type party. It looks sexy and fun, so why not?

Other than that, I'm done with work, trying to get some sleep and pack while still having a good time. Ashley and I are going to Disneyland on Tuesday! That should be fun. I am going to really miss that girl.

I leave sometime on Thursday, so I'm excited.

Today was one of the funnest days ever at work. Yes, I had to use a word that doesn't actually exist to describe it.

My coworkers threw me a party and disguised it as a meeting. They played jokes. I got presents. Cake, too.

After lunch, I came into my office to find fake hillbilly teeth. Even worse, the teeth and gums were made of candy -- pure sugar. The package came with gum, which was to serve as adhesive. It also came with a temporary tattoo, but that ripped before I got to see it. Figuring that Traci, my boss, gave it to me, I chewed the gum and stuck the teeth in. I walked into her office and said, in a muffled and nearly incomprehensible voice, "Djid joo haff anyfving thoo dhoo wiff dith?"

Silliness ensued.

I also heard the Office Quote of the summer today.

Everyone was giving me candy as part of my going away celebration. My boss, Traci said she wanted the Gummi Bears. With all of the masses of candy I had already received, I was not going to be sad to sacrifice a little packet of Gummi Bears. So I give it back, but she says she doesn't want to take it and she throws it at me but misses.

I say, "Whoever touched it last has to keep it!" as I fall out of her office laughing. And with impeccable timing, the generally quiet, old, mousy woman in the next office asks, "What happened to Superman?" (She is referring to the Superman that is a blow-up doll we keep at one end of the hall.)

I repeat the "last one to touch it" line and Traci -- my boss -- jumps out of her chair and chases me down the hall. I make it to my office, close the door and figure I'm safe. She slips them under the door and closes every door in between her office and mine to barricade herself from the Gummi Bears.

After a few minutes, I quietly sneak over to her office and throw the Gummi Bears at her. Then I run like hell. I come back to hear Sandra, Traci's office neighbor, and Traci laughing. We explain the situation to Sandra, how Traci wants the Gummi Bears but keeps refusing to take them.

Sandra: "When else does 'no' not mean 'no'?"
Traci (my boss): "Date rape."

And I was getting paid this whole time. Beautiful.

P.S. I'm going to the X-Games today ahhahha. For work ahhahaha.

I just saw a Google quote of the day that baffled me:

"You only live once."
--James Brown

Okay, so the guy said it. But how can you attribute such a generic quote to one man? You know how many people probably said that long before James Brown was born? Fuck, I said it, too. Can I be credited with it?

It reminds me of in Curb Your Enthusiasm when Larry David tries to get Richard Lewis in Bartlett's Familiar Quotations for coining the phrase "the (blank) from hell".

It's ridiculous in that episode and it's ridiculous to think that James Brown was the first man of some kind of merit to say, "You only live once."