Fake Purse Ninja

2011-03-04T10:30:00.000-08:00

Let me Borrow That Top

2011-02-25T10:25:00.000-08:00

No Booty Calls

2011-01-18T10:22:00.000-08:00

favorite kelly vids

2010-12-17T17:40:00.000-08:00

her motivation is obvious, she loves fancy shoes.

2010-10-01T17:23:00.000-07:00

You are such a downer, Lady of Shalott

2010-04-01T21:24:00.000-07:00

Please fix my sad broken life, Sassy Gay Friend.

speaking ill

2010-03-28T11:50:00.000-07:00

I feel like I miss out on so much stuff because I'm still often sick or feeling poorly. I spent so many sickly years that now even the slightest hint of ick will make me stay indoors, and this weekend it's so lovely out. I missed a birthday party among other things. I have been dizzy and light-headed, I spent enough paranoid hours at Kaiser over the years having them do tests and not finding anything conclusive. But I know when something is wrong. When I feel like this I'm terrified to step outside, after fainting once in the elevator of my apartment building. I was home sick and the UPS guy had a delivery, I was 80% sure I could make it and ended up being 100% wrong.

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Fainting is not cute, funny or romantic like in the movies, where girls with tight corsets crumple into someone's waiting arms. I blacked out and hit the floor, hard. I know this because I woke up on the ground, the elevator shaking, and the force of my fall caused the elevator to stop at the 3rd floor. I almost fainted Friday night when a friend was over, and I haven't left the house since.

comfortably numb

2010-01-23T11:17:00.000-08:00

I don't often write about my health. I don't need sympathy for my various issues, I'm more interested in gaining understanding. One problem that has dominated my entire adult life has been chronic pain from scoliosis.

When I was younger it was easier to ignore, I'm not quite sure how I managed, I guess I was far more physically active, but I spent a lot of time tuning out the pain in my body by escaping into the world inside my head. If you are self-absorbed you will understand what I mean.

If not for my chiropractor, relaxing Thai massage and medications, I would be a shut-in. You see, constant pain does things to a person. I spend so much of my time just trying to find comfort, I feel I have wasted my life staying in bed with my heating pad. When in constant (yet variable) pain, you come to fear it and avoid anything that may cause it to increase. Dealing with it becomes your lifestyle and routine.

Good luck finding empathy, especially in the workplace. Most supervisors don't especially care if you have health problems of any kind. Cancer would be the exception, a company can politely ask the entire staff to donate their PTO to the cancer-patient, rather than throwing in some extra days off on the company dime.

In my experience work-a-holic overachievers see illness or disability as weakness to be "overcome" and would just as soon punish you as offer sympathy, worse still most will accuse you of being a malingerer.

I have often found myself in a viscous cycle where my health problems were exacerbated by the pressure and stress of my job and the cruelty of my supervisors, in effect my job was making me sicker. It's best to leave those situations as soon as possible.

If you ever find yourself in a similar situation, taking care of yourself should always be your priority . If you ever find yourself in a similar predicament,it is best to let your doctors speak for you.

Avoision

2010-01-07T10:27:00.000-08:00

I don't like to admit to ugly emotions like jealousy. Sometimes I'm so consumed that I clearly avoid people, even when I like them a lot, because I can't deal with how it makes me feel. It's weird how the happiness of others just makes me obsess on my own shortcomings. I realize that no one has a perfect life, but there are many (especially in this town) who come pretty damn close. All I want to do is go somewhere and sit on a beach for a few weeks but these days I'm struggling to pay my rent (thanks a lot George Bush Economic Miracle). I only hope that at the least these choices are laying a foundation for a more comfortable future, to be fair the now is not really that bad even if I am poor and single.

2010 to-do list of the damned

2010-01-02T09:26:00.000-08:00

Here goes my yearly foray into self-improvement, funny how I can never remember the resolution's of the previous year. First thing: smell-you-later 2009! At the dawn of last year I was desperate for two things: to get into grad school and to find a way to quit my job. The job itself was ok, but working under dysfunctional leadership (one supervisor with an untreated anxiety disorder, the other a serious anger management problem) can cause any job to go from suck to blow. Pun intended. So I got into school, quit my job, but continued to have problems in romance. I guess two out of three aint bad. So here it is, my 2010 to-do list of the damned!

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- learn to budget properly.

- write more.

- go on a real vacation (it's been about 3 years)

- forgive most of my lingering grudges.

- get out of the house more often. (nobody likes an agoraphobic hermit)

- attend all the parties i'm invited to, instead of saying i will but then skipping out at the last minute.

- spend more time with my family.

- learn to cook (this one has been on the list for like 5 years)

- more camping trips.

- overcome my boyfriend fear. after years of resisting the idea it's time to seriously get over it! I would also like to spend less time being bummed out on the subject.

- finally write that best-selling teen fiction novella. (there has to be at least one totally unrealistic goal on the list every year)

De-install my Heart

2009-12-19T10:33:00.001-08:00

My Cursed Heart (2008) was recently deinstalled from the Staff Art Show at SFMOMA. This piece was part of an installation I did for a show at Space Gallery in 2008 (entitled: Lee Miller's Model with Daggers minus model and daggers), a pin cushion made of china-silk, satin ribbons and Voodoo pins.

stormy weather

2009-10-13T21:26:00.001-07:00

It's been raining bears and frogs all day, I guess the summer is definitely over and I am now having a hard time staying in denial. I really do like the first rains of fall, it washes most of the crap off the sidewalks and keeps the sketchy freaks from wandering out of the Tenderloin and loitering on my street.

There have been so many changes in my life that I'm adjusting to, this is never easy for me even if the new situation is good. In the last few months I have quit my job and started grad school. I keep wondering if this was the right path to take, I don't miss the incredible stress of my job but I do miss my friends and my old paycheck. The other thing I'm not good at is adjusting to a more modest lifestyle. I just hope I can make it all work, at least until I can find a part time job that will accommodate my school schedule. Or maybe I should get started on that future best-selling teen fiction novella, oh yah any day now.

angst for the memories

2009-08-26T19:25:00.000-07:00

I'm feeling incredibly vexed about my writing, on several levels. Firstly, I don't blog nearly enough, I have a very silly inner monologue and it would make great copy if I shared more often. I'm still trying to sort out where I want this blog to go, and I'm feeling quite intimidated by the SF blogging community, of which I'm a relative n00b and a mousey little nobody. And then there is this whole grad school thing I'm trying. I fear that for too long I've been rejecting principles of grammar and basic punctuation, if I felt it interfered with my style or expression, and relying on editors to catch my errors. Maybe I reject punctuation and write intuitively, or perhaps selectively apply it where necessary (i.e. my day-job), maybe it's far too many little rules to remember. I need to remember how to write for school, it may not be as easy as falling off a log but I'm sure I can get my head back in the game. At the orientation it was clearly stated that our professors are desperate to make us better writers, this is equally exciting and terrifying.

why my neighbors hate me

2009-06-13T07:53:00.000-07:00

I like loud music. What’s the point if not loud? I mean, not everything has to be loud but what about metal, rokk, glitchtronica and obnoxiously gay dance covers? I think its also possible that my neighbors hate me for all the aggressively cheerful indie rock and British girl bands I also play at maximum volume. I have been lately, however, going through an 70's metal phase. I live in a very noisy part of the city, the traffic is really loud (among other annoyances) and I swear that irritating douches are bussed to my hood from parts unknown. My corner is representative of how I envision living in New York or Paris, only with homeless crack-heads migrating in and out. The buildings are really pretty, we light them up at night so you won't notice all the crap on the streets.

But what of my neighbors? If loud is a given, then what is the acceptable level of personal noise? I live in a very well designed building for it's era, there are only people living directly below and on one side. But the old man downstairs must really hate my guts, my pretty wood floor creaks at the slightest weight, whether from a spontaneous dance party or my night-time pacing. And now with the cat knocking playstation controllers and other things to the floor coupled with my own clumsy problems with gravity + objects, we are indeed the noisy up-stairs neighbors anyone would hate. The cat also likes to run around for no reason, scraping her claws on the wood ineffectively trying to gain traction. That guy must be plotting my destruction as I type this.

rosebud (was a sled)

2009-04-26T20:31:00.000-07:00

I found a book on the interwebs that I couldn't leave behind, even though lately I've been shedding books like a school-board in Kansas. It could be my personal Rosebud. It arrived from Ohio via post this week. I'm sorry, but about this I need to brag. Every kid has a favorite book, and this was mine. By the time I got around to reading it in the 80's, my copy was a later edition paperback. This is a first edition, first printing copy from 1973 with the original Edward Gorey illustrations. I love that it came from a school library in Sag Harbor New York (the stamp by the card pocket tells me so) and that lots of kids were privy to the awesomeness of this book.
So maybe Rosebud was a sled, but in my case it was a book.

showdown on the playground

2009-04-06T20:38:00.000-07:00

I'm going to grad school in the fall, it's exciting but also kinda scary. Now I have to figure out things like:

Which school hoodie do I buy and then not actually wear on campus? No one wants to be that guy.
How do I go to school, work full time and live entirely large?
Can a Kate Spade tote or a Playstation 3 be justified as an education expense? (come on readers, help me out here) If so would it follow that Medal of Honor or Call of Duty could be considered historical research material?

As you know, I'm a girl with a lot on her mind. Thus it is always nice to have some of life's big questions answered. On Monday I approached Tammy at her desk: "I think I finally settled on my favorite drummer" She looks at me matter-of-factly: "Is it Keith Moon?" All I could do was nod my head.

Today I was talking with JM about glitchtronica and I mentioned I was listening to a bootleg of the Sisters of Mercy covering "Knocking on Heaven's door" which set off a whole discussion on Doktor Avalanche. It was then that I realized, he must be my favorite fake drummer. Amusing sidebar: at Sisters Of Mercy shows you could usually pick out Doktor Avalanche through the fog on the stage, a big black box behind Andrew and his 2 guitarists. You couldn't wave to the good Doktor but you could point him out to your friends.

How does one decide these things? The guitar solo in "My Sharona" is amazing, I don't know if it's technically the best ever but it is on MY list of favorite things. I haven't changed my mind about my favorite bassist since 1987: Andy Rourke (no question) so that issue is taken care of. I have blogged quite a bit on my adoration for Buddy Holly. TZ and I remain unashamed that by the slightest degree, we prefer New Order to Joy Division. Without making any judgments on talent or longevital fortitude: I like the Who better than the Rolling Stones. Don't hate!

her hero is dead

2009-03-29T09:55:00.000-07:00

In 2008 Nikol Lohr retired from over a decade of blogging, I shed a bitter tear. Disgruntled Housewife was the first blog I discovered, way before we even called em that. It was one of the funniest, personal and creative things I had seen on the interwebs (1997 was kinda bleak) and she was easily the coolest bird in Texas. Her web journal will remain an inspiration even if only as an archive, I'm so glad she is keeping the wife alive.

Nikol published a really gorgeous knitting book a few years ago. Buy it for your favorite angry hausfrau!

Real World: Amityville

2009-02-23T20:44:00.000-08:00

I was a huge fan of Mtv's The Real World since about the 2nd season but I lost interest later on (RW San Diego) and only rarely kept up by the end of its first decade. It just got irritating and formulaic, I was not entertained. As the internet is gradually killing off TV, I have been more than ecstatic about aiding in its demise. Though I should admit that cable was my dear babysitter for my entire childhood, the best pacifier ever invented.

But seriously, that was a really great show in the beginning and it was a fixture in my life during college. For those who were addicts, riddle me this: instead of slap fights and vomit parties, wouldn't you have liked to see a little stark terror? Didn't you ever want Puck to chase Rachel around the Lombard Street house with a chain-saw? Astonishingly some hack producer has had this very idea! Yet another reason why I heart those post-modern risk takers at the CW.

tacocat is a palindrome

2009-02-16T20:01:00.000-08:00

Hi, I'm Bunny!

I enjoy lolcats, sleeping, biting things,

rubber-bands,

and puking on the rug!

"I was adopted last week from the SF/SPCA, which was wonderful and gave me my own kitteh-condo at Maddie's adoption center. I'm really sweet and well-behaved; though me and the human are having some boundary issues regarding the scratching-up of her pretty velvet love-seat.

After about 3 days I started acting more like a cat and less like a scared little squirrel. I even started eating more and playing with my toys! Sadly the aged cliche applies: I freaking love to play with string! I don't miss the shelter, but I wish all my friends there could find good homes."

- Bunny Meowski

The most important thing for a potential cat owner to consider: do I need more vomit in my life?

SAD - singles appreciation day

2009-02-14T20:06:00.000-08:00

movies which I find suitable for valentines day (VD) viewing:

1) A Room with a View

2) Picnic at Hanging Rock

3) Alien

Alien is a poignant tale about a lesbian and her cat. In space. It's a love story in the sense of: what's not to love?

This year I observed SAD by:

getting roses from a sweet guy.

Playstation 3-D fighting games (with Japanese language turned on)

Drinking at the Hemlock with a herd of hot boys (I left my friend there, she will thank me you later)

drinking of wine and airing of grievances.

smoking the cigarettes of others

eating candy out of a heart-shaped box, all candy tastes better this way!

GRE = gradual realignment with evil

2009-02-10T09:15:00.000-08:00

Dear blog,

I have been neglecting you for several reasons recently and lavishing far more attention on my 1up.com blog. It's nothing personal. I've been quite busy with life-type stuff. I guess the most important thing is my recent application to grad school (I don't want to spill any beans until there are specific beans to spill) which has been taking up considerable time and $. I'm also feeling a bit robbed about the GRE. For one, studying for this anachronistic test is a total waste of valuable time out of life that I will never get back. The other thing I need to vent about is the obscene fee of $140 for the privilege of taking the 4+ hour test, which is more than what I make in a day. (edit: my mom read this and helped me out by covering the GRE extortion fee. thanks mom!)

I am trying to focus on the reality that this will all be over by Friday and then its all about waiting for the admission invitation if it is forthcoming. My file is in department review, and I had an interview last week, I have jumped through every hoop in the admission process and now my fate is in the hands of those who call the shots. I am really proud that I got this far as I only made the decision to do this about 4 weeks ago.

not unlike the wind

2009-01-14T21:10:00.000-08:00

Today I realized the breadth of my hatred for Bill Gates. After losing an extremely important document, that I had spent all day revising, I've decided I've had enough. There are so many things to hate about windows, but as a writer the one thing I can't stand is how windows saves files in strange secret temp folders that my paltry user privilege can't even access. And before you know it, super-important-to-my-future- type documents can just disappear. forever. gone. I'm so glad I have a mac at home.

It's true that I spent more time weeping rather than rewriting. But here is what writing is like for me, letters, essays or whatnot. I wrench these words out of my guts then wrestle with them until I can't stand to look at my composition. It's far from easy, I assure you.

My coworkers get irked about my bad spelling (i'm also dyslexic)
My editors hate my reckless disregard for grammar and proper syntax
My professors hated when I began sentences with a preposition

I'm a writer. It's art. and it's my process.

city games * SF version

2008-12-16T09:49:00.000-08:00

City games I don’t enjoy playing:

* What’s that Smell?

* Stinky Bus Musical Chairs

* Demonstrate that on your own body

* Don’t step in the Junkie Vomit
(adult version of lava game)

* The machine ate my BART ticket. no really.

(not to be confused with less popular: that BART-cop shot my friend.)

* Is that person:
a. crazy
b. homeless
c. on crack
d. trying to jack me
e. all of the above

*Lost Tourist Sherpa

* Market Street Frogger

* 3 am Taxi Quest

* Who wants to help me carry my friend?

happiness is a warm puppy

2008-11-19T21:16:00.000-08:00

After election night drinks I rushed back to the hill to vote and jump on the interwebs to see what was what. I quickly got bored of waiting for the state-by-state results so I fired up Chiaki (my trusty playstation) and got to work. About an hour into killing head-crab zombies I remembered that there was an event of international significance playing out and tuned back in to watch the electoral massacre unfold. I was g-chatting with my bestest pals and to our great collective astonishment, there were no sorts of electoral shenanigans of the likes of the previous 2 elections. Somehow, without a drop of blood officially spilt, the nation lurched into the next era.

By the time Obama mentioned the puppy for the girls I was caught in a blissful moment where I felt like the entire nation was getting a new puppy. The next day Drea sent me a link because I had mentioned Obama's "New Puppy" policy.

Since that day I have wasted so much of my free time watching these lil guys get fat and rowdy. I really don't know what to do with myself once they go off to their new homes. Perhaps I will become the crazy-cat-lady I was always meant to be, only I would prefer puppies (or ponies) I think.

birthday fantasy shopping

2008-11-03T18:12:00.000-08:00

Missoni sweater-coat, now only $2,418.75!

"As seen on the runway. For an alternative finish to this chic coat and to mirror the runway look, substitute the self-ties for a wide leather belt. A great investment cover-up. Shown here with a Chloé dress, Marc Jacobs shoes, a Missoni belt and a Chloé bag."

I call him Gerard

2008-10-18T10:35:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago I discovered an interloper in my house. Deep in the night I see him scuttle into the kitchen from whence he hides.

The management has done a few inspections, and laid out some traps which I don't like at all, but so far the trespasser has evaded all attempts to ruin his plans.

This has given me an idea: I'm going to leverage this mouse situation into cat ownership. The interweb tells me that mice won't enter a house, where dwells a cat. Really, you can't go wrong with the classics, and there is no better offense then a good defense.

thought of you as my mountaintop

2008-10-13T15:12:00.000-07:00

I have a piece in a group show at Space Gallery SF, the opening reception was Saturday and I had so much fun! The concept for my installation changed several times over the last few weeks, I am truly a mad-revisionist. As my background is in history exhibitions I was interested in placing objects, which are usually relegated to dusty diorama exhibits, into a space reserved for art. I was very inspired by a small drawing on display for the Lee Miller show at SFMOMA. It was called "Model with Daggers" and I thought I would re-work the idea.

That drawing seemed to be a metaphor for the objectification of the female form in commercial, art, and fashion advertising. I removed the body from the equation, when one does this only accouterments remain; a vintage dress, a lonely glove, and a picture of a famous designer. The pin cushion I made from red china-silk, bought as a remainder at Britex, which is where I also found the ribbon. The voodoo pins I bought in New Orleans, the picture of Karl Lagerfeld was printed off the interweb. As the pincushion I made by hand, I'm calling it alone "Cursed Heart"

I ended up with the title: "Model with Daggers (minus model and daggers)." I have very talented co-workers and it is really an honor to have the opportunity to collaborate on such a great project.

Thought of you as my mountaintop: SFMOMA staff art show will be on view at through October 26, 2008.

free stuff at Sephora

2008-10-04T12:28:00.001-07:00

Sephora is offering a free shopping tote this week only! I never knew the Beauty Insiders card was really worth getting, but if you have 100 points saved up you can get a free tote in stores and on-line. I got mine yesterday, you really can't have enough reusable shopping totes.

Ramble On

2008-10-02T11:15:00.000-07:00

Today I saw my dandy secret ex-boyfriend, I think he is an art student who hangs out at a cafe I walk by almost daily.

Doesn't he understand that our fake relationship, that he didn't even know about, is really over this time?

He needs to move on.

True Story: Tokio Hotel gets owned

2008-10-01T18:24:00.000-07:00

Scene:

Office in the Museum Building, overlooking the W hotel next door.
Kate: There's a bunch of girls getting their picture taken on roof of the W.

Rachel: That one looks like the singer of Dead or Alive.

Tammy: Nice use of the fan blowing his hair around, it really makes the most of his 80's shag mullet.

Rachel: Good thing the hairspray assistant is on-hand.

The group notices us staring at them from the big art museum next door.

I wave.

They wave back.

Kate: Hi! We're mocking you!!

In a way, I almost feel bad for them. It's a widely held fact that the biggest fear of most guys is that somehow, somewhere, a group of women is laughing at them.

Edit 10/3/06

Can 1000's of screaming French girls be wrong?

The answer, sadly, yes.

group show @ Space Gallery 10/11/08

2008-09-30T12:04:00.000-07:00

I have a found object piece in a show opening October 11, 2008 titled Karl Lagerfeld with steak-knife (Lee Miller's Model with Daggers, minus model and daggers)

Hard Times

2008-09-29T22:29:00.000-07:00

It’s been a rough week. I’ve been reminding myself about the things that help in stressful times, especially for a single girl alone in the big city.

Urban life can be absurd, but it does have its economic advantages if you make a little more than enough to live here. My building was built in 1923 (I'm such a dork, I looked it up) and still has the old steam-radiator from the '20s. I love listening to it gurgle and wheeze, and if I ever learn to keep plants alive, they will really benefit from it.

I've been talking a lot to friends and co-workers, all who are suffering from the GWB economic miracle (crickets). Here are the things I do to save a little money to spend on ridiculous things I don't need:

1) I sold my car to pay off half my debt, the rest I took care of with money I got in a legal settlement after The Great San Francisco Apartment Fire of '06. I have a small amount still on one card, but the trick is to pay as much as you can and not let it get any worse. It's important to note that being over leveraged and under capitalized is the most ill-advised financial position to be in. Hello, U.S. government?

2)I have absolutely no commute, I walk to work and thus spend nothing on transport also I'm not burning any fuels to get there.

3)I got a 2nd job: most people at my full-time job, also have part-time jobs.

4) I have no children, mortgages or pets to speak of (though I'm trying to reverse the latter)

5) I have opened multiple savings-checking-IRA accounts, which helps me to put money away, or control spending in several ways. I put any profits I make from makeup or side projects in a separate account, small amounts every month but it does add up. I also have a savings account that gets an automatic transfer from every paycheck. I hardly notice it, but it really adds up over time.

There are so many things to be thankful for in this world, I try to remember this often. I can be a big middle-class white girl crybaby but it is still miles better than the hand dealt to the Kathy Griffins of the world.

pretty please

2008-09-29T14:01:00.001-07:00

nataliedee.com

the 40 yard lament

2008-09-13T08:28:00.000-07:00

Lately I have been regretting past friendships that, for one reason or another, went sour. I suppose, its inevitable no matter how many friends you surround yourself with. Nothing, not even relationships stay the same, though I still regret the ones that went south. My friend Kristina once told me "It's better when your friends are the ones who tell you when you're being an a*hole." Still, even if certain people would never talk to me again, I wish I could apologize, and tell them that I didn't mean to be such a jerk. Even if I haven't yet worked through my catalog of indiscretions, I still think it is essential to take responsibility, and hope that maybe I'm not such a jerk anymore.

who is "Kilt-man"?

2008-08-29T11:26:00.000-07:00

Today while walking through the square, I had another Kilt-man sighting that I thought I should share. Kilt-man is the name I have given to a guy I see very frequently on my walk to werk, he is always dressed in full Scottish attire complete with knee-socks and a tie. Someday I may be able to snap a photo of the elusive Kilt-man in his natural habitat. I think he may work at that “Everything Scottish” store just off the square, I mean seriously where else could he be going every morning dressed like that? Until I have photographic evidence proving the existence of Kilt-man, you will have to take my word that he is not just an urban legend.

wo(man)

2008-08-26T11:06:00.000-07:00

thinking on irony For Jami Attenberg's The Kept Man contest (photo by Sarah Balcomb)

SFMOMA staff art show 2008

2008-08-25T20:17:00.000-07:00

I have a mixed media piece on view for the SFMOMA staff art show. I took a pair of photos of my retinas, and nailed them to the wall with horseshoe nails. I called it “A Stigmatatism”

home alone

2008-07-06T09:40:00.000-07:00

Having a nasty cold in the middle of summer is the pits. Everyone who knows me likes to joke about how I can’t sit still for more than a minute at a time. Even when I’m feeling poorly, its still true. I had to miss about 3 parties in total this week, and I’m quite cross about it. To keep myself from ruminating over all the fun things I missed I found small projects to do all over the house. I’m in the middle of The Great Stuff Shift of 2008. This is my yearly adventure in reorganization and trying to make more room in my apartment for, well, other stuff.

First task: figure out the maximum volume my mom will let me store at her place. Second: figure out what I can stand to give away, or sell on ebay. Having more space in my spare closet means I can move the ungodly amount of shoes out of my walk-in so I can fix it up like a dressing room.

I really want to get my kitchen fixed up by winter so I can start having dinner parties again. That is my favorite part of having a new place: fixing it up and having parties.

I'm read by dozens

2008-07-05T08:42:00.000-07:00

For some reason, my 1up.com gaming blog is blowing up, I'm on the home page listed under most popular blogs. It won't last. It's kind of funny to me because I didn't actually write anything, just posted a silly youtube video. I guess I should enjoy my 15 seconds of fame.

Nancy Boy is British Slang

2008-06-18T23:52:00.000-07:00

For the first time in over 2 years of steady blogging, I had a conflict this week between my diary and my blog. My diary won, and now that I'm thinking on it it's a good thing. Too many things have happened, and I have had too many thoughts as of late, that really should not be shared with the world at large.

This week I have had the unpleasant task of examining my often farcical existence, and then trying to explain to people evidence of my strange life which resists all things not-ridiculous. No really, at times the worst possible things happen to me, in an "embarrassing mishap" sense. It's like the script of my life was spewed forth from the laptop of a mean-spirited Hollywood hack, I'm the comedic heroine of a romantic/modern-life tragic farce. I was told yesterday I have a persecution complex, well do I ever.

I've been going through a phase where I'm getting rid of stuff that has no use or meaning for me. It's a thing. The clothes are very hard to wrestle out of my clammy hands, the books are easier, the LP's are out of the question! I've decided I need to be rid of my late 1990's era college text books. If I have not read or referred to them in the last 7 years, will I ever? So there they all are, stacked in neat little piles, ready to be sent off again into the world. Ibsen, Chekhov, Dickens, Chaucer, Carlyle, Foucault, I feel like I have processed all they have to teach me. And right now I just want the shelf space. I picked up Nietzsche, whom I don't prefer, and thought "maybe I should give the old man one last shot." I opened up to a random page and of course its all, blah blah women are evil, blah jews suck, blah blah. Um, no thanks. It's the top of the pile for that guy.

a history of nerding

2008-05-07T13:53:00.000-07:00

A little history: I was part of the first generation of kids growing up with nerdy parents involved in the Silicon Valley techno-revolution of the 1970’s and 80’s. We always had the newest computers at my house, my father would bring them home like lost puppies, I laughingly use the term “desk-top PC” mostly because those things were about the size of a desk in the old days. Basically what I’m getting at is that I always had high-tech gadgetry around growing up, and I have really never gotten over my fascination with it. Even in college I lived in a house full of nerds, seriously: we were running exchange server and everyone’s CPU was networked. We even had a dedicated mp3 server (I think it was an old Pentium-3) where anyone could take and leave whatever they wanted. Good times.

My only shame in being a console gamer since 1985 would be the fact that I can't afford a Playstation 3, but I think 2009 will be my year.

gloss red heels

2008-05-04T20:36:00.000-07:00

It’s springtime in the city, at long last. Though you wouldn’t know it today with the chill and the gloomy clouds. As it is not happy outdoor shopping weather, I have been scouring the vast consumer opportunities the interweb has to offer. Lately I’ve been obsessed with jewelry that hides lip-gloss or perfume, and also tiny makeup kits. I’m wearing a lip-gloss ring from Jaqua as I type this. Mmm buttercream flavor. There are many nights where I go out without a bag (for many reasons) and I have got the party-gear down to the most basic of elements: id, phone, cash, powder and lipstick/gloss. All of these things can be stashed away in the pockets of my skinny jeans, but having one less thing to worry about (because of my lip-gloss ring, ect.) is always nice.

Other things I’m obsessed with lately include red high-heels (I’ve been wearing them with jeans a little too often) and also anything with a rose motif. I’ve been also buying a lot of long-waisted graphic tees. Like the one’s my friend Alex designs. One thing I like about the change in seasons is new colors! I don’t really buy into many trends but I love it when colors I like come into style. If you leave a comment please let us know what you are buying this Spring.

2008 to-do list of the damned

2008-01-10T18:43:00.001-08:00

give up on the "whatever's handy" school of dating

consider revising phase 3 of the master plan, the time may indeed be right...

stay in therapy, it may just be helping.

continue avoiding mistakes/downfall of my parents

reformulate phase 5 of the master plan, or at least try and remember what it was exactly.

put off grad school application through 2009 and consider things that are else

continue to shamelessly decorate the lair with hand-me-downs and crap I get for cheap on CL.

reflect on the sudden fact that I am debt-free. (even though I had to give up my beloved black Jetta to do so. sob. but it was all worth it right??)

clean out the spare closet, make it a space dedicated to my camping gear, coats, party dresses and Batman action figures.

fix up my kitchen and then learn to cook.

make a quilt out of my old concert tees which I have been saving up for 20 years and can't part with under any circumstances. revised: have my mom make the quilt for me!

start on Halloween costume in March instead of May, this year will require a shit-ton of sewing and fitting.

go to kickboxing with some regularity

get the Spinster's Drinking Society up and running, find a sponsoring bar with no scene to speak of and find a bunch of drinkers with writing problems to attend our salons.

start my gaming blog that I have been thinking about

start my politics blog that I have been thinking about

learn how to make a decent hot toddy.

write a script with ponies, sell said script

volunteer with the SPCA

summon the guts necessary to finally get my wisdumb teeth removed

find a way to work the system

vacation in Hawaii, scout out beach-front properties for my retirement.

keep it real, but not too real

the view from box 5

2008-01-01T11:08:00.000-08:00

I consciously decided that my last post of the year would not enumerate all the dumb things I've done this year of our (half-inflated dark) lord, 2007. So I will just tell you what I did last night.

Here's the thing about big party holidays, I'm really quite blase about them. I think it's because I party for a living. So last night I attended a special screening of Lon Chaney's 1925 Phantom of the Opera at Grace Cathedral, with live organ accompaniment by Dorothy Papadakos. It was a sublime experience to say the least. First off you should know that the Phantom of the Opera is one of my favorite stories in all of its various adaptations, since my tweens I have been thoroughly obsessed with the resident of box 5. Seeing the Ken Hill production in the late 1980's is what I credit with starting my interest in costume and fashion. When my mom took me to see Andrew Lloyd Webber's Phantom in London for my birthday, I pretty much freaked out and died. I don't remember breathing during the entire performance and I left the theater with my arms full of Phantom swag. I held my breath as I walked the street outside the Paris Opera House in November of 2000, afraid to peek inside for fearing I would think I had died and gone to heaven. That trip was an amazing adventure that had me riding an Egyptian Arabian mare (one of the rarest breeds in the world) cross-country in the south of France, through 400 year-old shepherd's paths and tiny Provencal villages. Later on that journey I found myself at Oscar Wilde's grave, overcome with emotion I wept there almost 100 years after he died. I left a Santa Cruz Boardwalk arcade token for him to remember me by.

Being inside cathedrals is always an awe inspiring experience for me. They are usually such amazing spaces that demand a certain quiet contemplation. The pews were really packed, it was difficult finding a seat with a good view, but that turned out to be a secondary concern once the organist started. The lights went down but the screen was still dark. It may have been cliche, but when the first notes of Bach's Toccata in D Minor started soaring to the buttresses, the goose-bumps crawled up my arms. The acoustics in Grace were astounding, the ambiance was surreal and breathtaking. The film itself I had never seen in its entirety, and I'm still learning my way around silent film from the 1920's, but it was one of the most gorgeous pieces of cinema I have ever seen in or out of film-school. The 15 minutes of early technicolor footage was actually very interesting and not at all overused. The Phantom's huge red cape, blowing in the wind on the roof of the Opera as he spied on the clandestine lovers, was a stunning and brilliant special effect. I was constantly impressed at the artistic lighting and dramatic character blocking that made full use of the sweeping sets and crowds of extras. This Phantom is an amazing piece of film art, I find it amusing that it was so disliked by the critics prior to its general release as I think its genius resonates even today.

Last night, I knew that I was experiencing something special, I tried my best to savor the ambiance.Here is what the program had to say about the Toccata: "The Toccata is widely associated with all things spooky, particularly the Phantom who is himself an infamous mad organist. ...it is improvisatory in nature, traditionally organists pull out all the stops to rumble the rafters and your seats" Hearing that piece of music in that gothic and dramatically lit space was something I will never forget.

So attached to the Phantom am I that I could not bear to see him hunted down and killed, and I snuck out right at the very end before the denouement. I stood on the steps, by the giant bronze doors and smoked a cigarette while surveying the bright lights of Huntington Park. With a smile on my face (and in my comfy 3-inch heels) I walked off into the night, glancing into the parties I passed.

everything they said about you was true

2007-12-27T18:46:00.000-08:00

I discovered an amusing fact about my new wireless internet service, which I have been enjoying immensely since getting my new deck (nerd/skater speak for "I have a new computer/skateboard"). I got a subscription to citi-net, which I've been patching into through a signal from a local hotel (they have hot-spots all over town, I dropped no cash on extra equipment) but I could not figure out which hotel until further investigation. For the purposes of this story, we shall call this establishment the Lush Hotel. I find it amusing that this place is now the source of my high-speed internet addiction, for once it was the scene of my downfall . For those in the know, this was the setting for the now infamous "Party Girl Down" photograph by Joey C. III. the picture that inspired many of my friends to chase me around town with cameras and an irritating persistence.

Party Girl Down, 2006 by Joey C. III

(ps: my spies have informed me that there is a photo of me from Tessa's project that is on display at the Jewish Museum. Awesome, and I'm only 1/8th!)

I was going to write about how much fun I had on Kilted Yaks Eve, but then I realized that most mericans don't celebrate this fine Canadian tradition. Basically Tammy and my parents all came over and we got drunk and made dinner. (author's aside: I did a quick dogpile search on KYE and of course the only description I found was on a World of Dorkcraft list-serve. ) My mom got me a new stereo and a toaster-oven, which is a lot like my old easy-bake, but for adults.

Today the gamer blogs were all filled with everyone's best of '07, all of which I have yet to play due to several factors including the selfishness of others and a realignment of my financial priorities that did not include a next-gen console. Seriously, boys, get off my back. You can't hate me anymore than I hate myself. Make no mistake, in 08 I'm coming back in a big way.

bossfight

2007-12-25T18:57:00.000-08:00

I've lost count of the number of games that I have stopped playing during the last boss fight. I can attribute this behavior to several factors, the first being irritation and the second being ennui. Let's face it, there are many boss fights that are so difficult/complicated/ridiculous/inane that its often not even worth it to finish, in terms of valuable time out of life you will never get back. The one time I had a bad-ass gaming pc, the mid-to-late 1990's, I remember not being able to defeat the red queen in Alice without the hacks. Sometimes its not even worth it to me for the final cut scene, and most good ones you can find on the interwebs anyway. For the games where I'm quite engaged and obsessed, the boss fights are simply a means of getting to the next level of game-play, I get determined to finish come hell or high-water. I find it odd, then, when I get to a last boss of a game I have thoroughly enjoyed and feel a sense of anxiety about the battle royal. Like ever-so-much in real life is riding on my cracker-jack timing and awesome button-pressing reflexes. But there are certain situations in life that feel a bit too much like boss fights. You can almost hear the dramatic music, and you hope to god that you conserved enough ammo and health pickups to survive the figurative altercation and complete the level.

cute overlord

2007-12-09T11:15:00.000-08:00

I've had a ton of visitors to the lair recently, since I can't go out as much my friends have been coming to see me. It's been great. On Friday I had an apartment full of lovely ladies, we gossiped and drank wine before heading out for dinner. Yumsies!

Yesterday I volunteered for the SFSPCA by collecting donations outside of Macy's, they do these really cute displays of cute little kitty apartments and people crowd around the windows to get a peek at the kittens. At first I was a little freaked out about the crushing waves of holiday shoppers, not to mention the uncomfortable irony of competing with the beggars for the same pocket change. I had the decided advantage, so I relied on my superpowers of adorable to facilitate maximum Washingtons in my collection box. Really the kittens did most of the work, I just stood there and people gave me money for 2 hours! At first it was just little kids with quarters, but people started coughing up Lincolns and Hamiltons! I made $87 in a little less than 2 hours, plus it was a lot of fun. I can't wait for next year!

hausfrau rage

2007-12-07T11:18:00.000-08:00

CHAPTER 1

MISCELLANEOUS MORAL HINTS ON THE FORMATION OF CHARACTER, HABITS, ETC.

EXCELLENCE THE REWARD OF INDUSTRY

Excellence is providentially placed beyond the reach of indolence, that success may be the reward of industry, and that idleness may be punished with obscurity and disgrace.

TRAINING OF THE MIND

A sound moral discipline, and a well regulated mind, can under God, carry a man through life so that he will not be the sport and victim of every change that flits across the scene.

And it cannot be too anxiously borne in mind, that this great attainment is in a remarkable degree under the influence of habit. Every day that passes, and every step that we take, with out making it the object of earnest attention, renders the acquirement more difficult and uncertain, until a period at length arrives when no power exists in the mind capable of correcting the disorder which habit has fixed.

The frivolous mind may then continue frivolous to the last, amusing itself with trifles, or creating for itself fictions of the fancy, no better than dreams. The distorted mind may continue to the last eagerly pursuing its speculations departing farther from the truth; and the vitiated mind may continue to the last, the slave of its impure and degrading passions. Such is the power, and such the result of mental habits.

In early life, aim at the mastery of the mind; give earnest attention to the trains of thought encouraged, as habits may be thus unconsciously formed, the influence of which may be permanent and irremediable, and peril the happiness of life and the immortal interests of the soul.

From: the Skillful Housewife's Book by Mrs. L.G. Abell ~ Published 1853

ikea nesting instinct

2007-12-01T19:06:00.000-08:00

I've been quite sick for weeks, it has put a serious damper on my party life. I am however, a notorious hermit and don't at all mind clocking serious hours at the lair. I think my recent nesting impulse has also been brought about by having my own place at long last. Imagine your dream tree house, with sweeping city views and in a rent controlled hood. That is my apartment, and I love it. Someone tried to burn my last building down so I guess I'm just excited to have a great place that is entirely mine. I'm really glad that I decided on a new bed over an xbox, I can pick one of those up cheap after the new year. But my new bed is divine, I can't wait to get it put together. I'm also superstitious about mattresses (ratio of boys to years, you get the idea), so it will be nice to see the ass end of this one as it is hauled away. My three wretched plants are still limping along, but as the eldest has lasted over a year I'm thinking that I may just be responsible enough to consider getting a fish. But I don't want to get ahead of myself. When my mom was my age she was living the suburban lie with an asshole husband and an 11 year old me. A shudder passes down my crooked spine.

TZ came over yesterday after werk and we went out for cocktails and crepes. I mused about how many illnesses I am prolly avoiding by being home. We share a common preoccupation with clothing and fashion, we sometimes talk about how we would dress if we were boys. I picture us like dandy NYC art rockers, in shrunken 3- piece suits and pointy shoes. These are the silly things we chat about over frozen watermelon martinis with blueberries, the girliest, gayest drinks you can get in polk glutch.

cigarettes and magazines

2007-11-25T19:09:00.001-08:00

My health problems have really been a bitch. I have had to take some time off werk to deal with it. Just when I feel better for a day, I spend the next in bed for hours with headaches. It's made me want to hibernate away the rest of the winter.

I'm having another existential crisis on top of it all, but I think it is ultimately good in that I'm trying to realign my perception. However, it has also upset my grad school plans, which is pretty typical for this time of year. Putting off grad school for 7 years because I keep changing my mind, it's practically a tradition.

I got a new computer and it has changed my life. I can't believe how much I had suffered under the Dell/Windows tyranny, now that I have been delivered from it. My new mac is the tops, now I just have to learn the OS and various goodies that came installed. If I had gotten the Viao I would already be removing the annoying bloatware and reconfiguring the system. It's weird to not be able to drop to DOS and mess around, this thing doesn't need much messing with and I don't know what to do with myself. But I decided that I could not buy another windows machine if I was going to get an playstation3, I can't be giving Gates my hard earned Washingtons at both ends.

operation noel thunder

2007-11-18T19:11:00.000-08:00

I'm going to recount to you a heartwarming Christmas tale. About my friend Rob, and the wonderful gift he received early one Christmas morning. This gift was the product of a stealthy late-night mission, that I in no way planned and executed, after assembling a crack team of co-conspirators.

Incidentally, Rob had been my secret admirer in high school. I found him out after noticing in his year book the same symbol that graced the notes he clandestinely slipped in my locker. By our early twenties, we were just buddies and he was toiling away at Sega, working on the 900 help line. Poor Rob had to work on Christmas morn, one of the busiest work days of his year.

The town where I spent my pre-drinking years, many many moons ago, had an ungodly amount of garish plastic lawn decorations around this time of year. It was only a matter of time before someone decided to beautify the neighborhood, so to speak. This holiday tale is now the stuff of legends and must be passed on.

Late one Christmas eve, The Suburban Lawn Ornament Liberation Front (TSLOLF) gathered their supplies, discussed their plans, mapped out a strategy, and crept off into the night.

The next day, at the butt-crack of dawn, Rob stepped out onto his front porch, completely stoned, lit a smoke and looked up. The site that greeted his eyes, was the likes for which he (and his neighbors, and the cops who cleaned it up) will never see again. Several mis-matched wise men, were up in the tree. A large plastic Santa was clutching a plastic baby-jesus, both had Alice Cooper eye makeup and cigarettes in their mouths. Other stolen plastic atrocities were strewn about his lawn in a cheerful display. So there would be no mistake about for whom this tableaux was intended, ROB was spelled out in black paint on each wise man.

<3 <3

2007-11-18T09:31:00.000-08:00

Seeking to end the grand tradition of tragic mishaps occurring on my birthday, I had resolved to spend this one with quiet reflection. So of course one of the 4 busiest work-event days of my year happened to fall on my birthday. Characteristically I powered through it with the promise of birthday frag-club to follow in the evening, and two days off at the end of the week. Sometimes it's all about whatever gets you through the day. Lucky for me my cowerkers are the most awesome people in the universe, so they made all the difference. The cake and flowers also helped. My mom left me a very sweet voice mail where she explained how having me was the high point of her life.

Thursday, after birthday crepes with Tammy and TZ, a ton of my favorite people took me for drinks at my favorite bar, they all got me hammered on beer, cider (and love!). I'm glad I stuck to the soft stuff, Friday could have been a lot worse. I had just enough Nat Shermans to get me thought the night, plus a few to share. Tara somehow managed to submit her dissertation proposal and buy me a drink. MLE and Stephanie brought me Bumble products! (sweet!) The bands were pretty tight, and Josh, Alex and Marc stayed until the bitter end. I would also like to give snaps to Joe McNielly for the invite to the Playstation Magazine party at the W that i had to miss, and to Inbal who sang me the birthday song in Hebrew.

Saturday I went on my birthday shopping rampage. Of course I enlisted TZ for this mission, we terminated various retail establishments with extreme prejudice. I got a nice rug for my bedroom, some earrings, and a shit-ton of designer jeans! By that I mean 2 pairs. I went over budget, but ZOMFG my new denim is awesome. I may have to forgo my birthday facial this year to make up for it, but for these jeans I would gladly open a vein.

san francisco martini

2007-10-31T23:32:00.000-07:00

Last night I was mopping my impossibly filthy floors, you know it was a rager when it takes you 3 days to clean your house after a big party. I was rinsing my mop when I realized that it was not me shaking, but the building. I stopped and put my hand on the wall, not to steady myself but to really get a sense of the quake in progress. The power stayed on, and there were no aftershocks that I could detect, yet I followed tradition and ran to the window to witness any ensuing chaos on the streets. No more than usual, I went back to mopping. My building is from the mid 1920's, and has withstood worse quakes. Even on the top floor, the building swayed yet I felt rather safe. I've been in Nor Cal pretty much my whole life, quakes don't really get to me. I worry more when I don't feel them for a long while, that's when you know a big one's a-brewing.

I did however attempt a rare San Francisco martini, I will explain how to make one. After an earthquake (5.1 or higher) quickly throw some vodka (or gin, if you prefer) and dry vermouth into a large martini glass and place it on a table. When the aftershocks hit the presumption is that your martini will be shaken, not by human hands but BY THE EARTH! Sadly, there were no aftershocks and I was forced to stir my own drink.

It was still pretty tasty.

polishing brass on the Titanic

2007-10-15T11:34:00.000-07:00

I knew it was going down, yet I kept trying to get a shine. The iceberg was rather indifferent, sink or float, it was all the same. Even after the initial impact, it seemed as though the old girl would stay afloat. The papers have described my resolve as "unsinkable" a boastful claim to be sure, one the gods were sure to disprove at the first opportunity. I noticed a distinct list to port around July, yet I redoubled my polishing efforts and tried to ignore that sinking feeling. When the plates started crashing to the floor, and all my friends became a chorus telling me to jump, I polished on. Meanwhile cold seawater continued to pour in through the gash, as the band commenced their final elegy. I hummed along as we slowly sunk to a watery grave, forgetting why I desperately needed that brass to shine.

a nation’s lonely eyes

2007-10-12T11:51:00.000-07:00

The Little Charmers

Tammy- vox/ guitar

Rachel- vox/ maracas del diablo

Tonight at an event, I ended up behind a desk surrounded by ridiculously important photography, and chatting with a founder of Atari. It's quite amusing, when I think about the people I come across when organizing these events. We drank wine and he told me all about how inventing Pong was basically just another start up to him. I texted every nerd I have in my contacts. Alex's reply: "Get him to sign your chest" almost made me spit pinot noir all over the inventor of video games!

Last night was the debut performance of The Little Charmers, mine and Tammy's new super awesome girl band! We were asked to perform at the first public meeting of the Mrs. Robinson Society. We were the opening number, and we totally worked it!

We belted out our cover of "Mrs. Robinson" like old pros, inspiring the hipster boys to flash us some devil horns in praise. We deftly weaved Pavement lyrics into the intro and the end, there were plans to also sing homage to Mr. Bungle but it didn't work out. I feel we have reached an apex of popularity yet unheard of. We kinda rule.

Listening to all this S & G is making me nostalgic for London, and when I used to sing folk songs in the stairwell with a beautiful boy from Chicago. One day I heard someone playing Dylan on a guitar, when I investigated I found him there and asked if I could sing back-up. I crushed on him the whole time we were next door neighbors, but alas we never hooked up and to my ultimate dismay, I ended up dating his jackass roommate. I won't go into it, but it didn't work out.

Have you ever gotten mad at someone, and changed their name in your cell phone contacts to something like: Skanky McNastypants, or El Asswipé? Try it, sometimes it really makes you feel better ignoring that call from El Asswipé .

2007-08-31T09:24:00.000-07:00

out of werk early

Yesterday I pulled off a simple but awesome party for a departing friend and co-worker, it included champagne, cake and a pinata filled with gum and smarties. I'm going to miss her terribly but at least I gave her a good send off, and I hope the gum lasts for her long drive to Chi-town. Le sigh. After that it was a long night of drinking with the lads, perhaps Thursdays are shaping up to be the big party night this fall. Regardless, I'm a little strung out and sleep deprived today.

I had lunch with Tammy in the park, we had falafel and enjoyed the noticeable lack of people in town. Seriously, between the holiday and Burnout Man, the streets are practically empty save the cracksters and the tourists. This town is ours. Someone said something really funny and we fell over on our backs laughing uncontrollably. Then we watched the clouds drift by on this impossibly gorgeous day.

to-do list of the damned

2007-08-23T10:54:00.000-07:00

drag sorry ass out of bed

make a gallon of coffee - consume

check email, myspace & blog about last night

resist urge to vomit because of that thing I found out about (stupid boy)

call Theresa

start drinking coffee seriously

resist urge to think about that thing that I don't want to think about (stupid boy)

text MLE

eat cereal (with raisins)

kickboxing

take shower

nap

resist urge to vomit (stupid boy)

listen to girl band LP's

call Alyssa

get pissed off about that thing I don't want to think about

lunch

clean closet

text reply to MLE

lament

go for walk

more kickboxing - continue to work out issues

write in journal (while resisting urge to vomit)

talk to Tammy

study for GRE

pick at dinner

watch Robert Altman film

ignore that thing I don't want to think about

ennui

blessed unconsciousness

adventures in extra action

2007-08-19T11:55:00.000-07:00

Last night myself and MLE ventured deep into North Beach to see Fellini's 8 1/2 in the park. We sat on the grass drinking coffee, all bundled up watching the full moon rise behind the giant silver screen. I have not taken in much Fellini since film school, but I spent an inordinate amount of paper-writing meditating on his work. So without reading up on it, or cracking any of my film history/theory books, I'm going to attempt a coherent discussion. Like to hear it? Here it goes...

Separating the character from the auteur is as tricky as discerning the dream from so-called reality in the films of Fellini. This film is particularly self-reflexive as the character Guido, much like Fellini himself, is deep in the midst of a romantic and professional existential crisis. Few of us are fortunate enough to have the resources or the talent to work out our issues via narrative cinema, nor would we have the guts to expose our flaws and insecurities in such a way for anyone who cared to notice. The result is a film that at first glance is all about moral and relationship ambiguity, but upon deeper analysis works on many levels in surprisingly simplistic terms, even in the absence of a clearly defined plot and narrative structure.

Guido (the main character (played by the enduringly hot Marcello Mastroianni) is a successful and quite randy film-maker, watching him stumble through the twisted relationship circus he had created for himself made me remember with amusement my mother's warning to me: never marry an Italian. He seems so surprised when the consequences of his extra action catch up with him, clearly he had deluded himself that all his women wouldn't find out about each other. His deepest wish seems to be that his wife and lovers could all live in a harmonious harem like in his fantasy, where every woman he has ever lusted for or had an affair with are collected for the sole purpose of his comfort and pleasure. Yet even his fantasies turn on him, becoming twisted versions of themselves where the women inevitably fight against him and each other. So much for having it both ways. The rub is we always find out about each other, and a bitter irony is revealed in that the more a man struggles to hide something, the easier it is to put the pieces together. But I digress...

It's never been clear to me if we are to sympathize with Guido, who seems to be doomed to a life with no love, as if that should absolve him the responsibility of his transgressive infidelity. Perhaps it is the consequences of his fear of making choices that is the heart of his existential crisis, and not his emotionally bereft life. In the end the spectator is refused any real closure, yet the effect of this is to leave one examining their own choices and relationships, and the inherent ambiguity that connects the two themes in both the film and in modern life.

The Last One Standing

2007-08-19T09:27:00.000-07:00

Last night I was at the premiere of "King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters" with Angela, Greg and MLE. Throughout the first 15 minutes I suspected that I was watching a mockumenary, it seemed so much to be a self-parody that I had a hard time buying it. But slowly I came to realize that it was all for really real, crazy classic gamer freaks and all. The synopsis for the film reads thus:
"Billy Mitchell, named 'Video Game Player of the Century' in 1999, set a record score in Donkey Kong in 1982 that many felt would never be broken. In 2003, Steve Wiebe, who recently lost his job, learned about Billy's record and set out to beat it. With Billy's previous record now shattered, both men embark on a cross-country battle for inclusion in the 2007 Guinness Book of World Records as the supreme king of Donkey Kong."
It's basically a film about one man's quest to be the best, at, something, and another man jealously being an asshole about it. There were moments towards the end where we were all on the edge of our seats, biting the proverbial nails and rooting for the long shot. There is so much humor and intrigue revealed by the ever observant camera, that I was constantly reminded of the old school style of non-participatory documentary championed by Fredrick Wiseman and D.A. Pennebaker. The self-reflexive method of appropriating the "struggle of the hero-athlete" 1970's documentary aesthetic (as evidenced through use of the "Rocky" theme and other such power-anthems) added a farcical quality that did not overshadow the seriousness of the competition. The narrative constructed a very effective "epic battle" between the two gamers that had a poignancy that perhaps only Nancy Kerrigan and Tonya Harding could truly understand and appreciate.