i like my men like i like my coffee: puerto rican!
gold star for first person who can identify what movie that quote is from (use the comments feature, people, it's there for a reason!).

i've been really into whiney boy music lately: gavin degraw, rufus wainwright, the shins. that sucks! guys need to fucking suck it up and be men. dammit. kidding, of course. i'm so not about machismo/patriarchy/male-domination/gender roles. but whining is really the last straw.

sometimes i see movies about artists/musicians/geniuses and i can't figure out how they are married and have children. how do these people have the time to cultivate a relationship and spend time with their families when their lives are so absorbed by their work? regan pointed out that people are just attracted to people who are intensely driven by something. i can definitely understand that; i think i've been there. but how do you separate the artist from the man? is it possible to do that? are they two different beings? can you stop yourself from falling into the trap of loving the artist instead of the man?

i guess it starts when you're young: you have crushes on celebrities, boy bands, teen tv stars. and then when you grow up a little, you want to find heroes. and then you actually start to meet heroes: people who are your age who are doing truly remarkable things. and they've got that thing, that fire inside, for lack of a better cliche. they're the most, the best, The (fill in the blank) that you've ever met. and you can't help but admire them.

maybe there's more than that. maybe there's that attraction, whether immediate or accumulated over time. you engage in passionate conversation, you see the spark in the person's eyes when discussing their life obsession, their voice elevates, they gesture with emotion. you see the flicker of worry on their face, unsure if they have overwhelmed you with things that they are immersed in at all moments of the day. you share your own ideas, passions, what makes you angry, what makes you laugh, your ambitions.

and there's this awesome moment that is difficult to catch, but so precious if you can notice it. you see the person integrating you into their schema of the world. you see them processing you as a whole person, bit by bit. of course they don't realize you are doing the exact same thing as well. but you are doing it too. and at that moment, you know there's going to be a lot more than this.

l.a. story
ever since i saw mulholland drive, i can't shake this creepy feeling whenever i visit l.a. there's just this kind of scary, sad, lonely, emptiness. it's like i keep expecting to see the man with the cowboy hat around the corner, or the little midget, or the scary nightclub singer, or *gasp,shiver* the blue box. and it's even worse because my past three visits have been in the winter, so there isn't even the nice weather to compensate for the eeriness. in fact, this time around it was cold as fuck.

nevertheless, i had a good time. we got in around 2 in the morning after a very fun ride down in regan's rickety oldsmobile. crystal and chris picked me up and we stayed up until 5 am catching up. saturday we met up with anne and went to the getty museum. the collection wasn't very spectacular, but the architecture was great. i wanted to do more cultural stuff this time around in l.a., since i realized that every time i've visited over the past four years, all i have done was shop and party like a rap star. there's nothing wrong with that, but i just feel like i don't know l.a. at all. anyways, that night we had dinner at a japanese curry place on sawtelle (thanks gloria), and then went to a bar called temple bar to see a really good hip hop band that a few of crystal's friends are in called ill again. we ended the night at sketchy's pad, watching 2 fast 2 furious, which, i'm sad to say, was not fast and i was the furious one for staying up to watch it instead of falling asleep like most of the others.

sunday we went to lacma (l.a. county museum of art), which has a really good collection of modern art. they had this funny exhibit on buddhism, and it felt like buddhism for dummies. there were these placards up, with like FAQs about buddhism: "what is the heart-mind?" "where is it?" "how big is the heart-mind?" that night we watched both the neverending story (i'm still traumatized from childhood) and shaolin soccer (so funny!). i think i made a comment about falcor being "so l.a." because he rocks the fur and the iridescent snakeskin at the same time. also, that pendant atreyu wears is pretty hot. accessories complete the outfit, right, carson?

monday regan picked me up, and we had lunch at this cute cafe in echo park, and i had a very l.a. sandwhich--brie and avocado. so good, but also so heavy. we then went to los feliz village and saw lost in translation. i think the jury is still out on this one. i did like it, but i'm not like mad jocking it, like a lot of other people. maybe i need to mull it over a little more. i think my main gripe is that the whole "japanese are quirky" thing got a little old, and that just wasn't that funny in the first place. i guess it's true that you have to leave your politics at the door when you watch movies or else you will never enjoy any movie. but yes the director did a great job of evoking a certain mood, and i think there are a lot of subtle moments, and it raises a lot of issues about the random nature of relationships and loneliness and solace.

goals for this week:
1) find a job (ha.)
2) begin attending yoga classes or a gym
3) finish reading "the namesake"
4) get a bunch of clothes hemmed/altered/tricked out by kindly chinese lady at neighborhood alterations shop/sweatshop

iTunes: lots of stuff by The Shins; "are you gonna be my girl?" by jet (i know they did a iPod commercial, but so?); "for you" by duncan sheik; "roses" (THE JAM!) and "she's alive" by outkast; anyone have the new rufus wainwright or new travis cds and want to burn me a copy??

i've never been idle in san francisco in october.

this didn't occur to me until today. i think it's because the full impact of daylight savings time has now hit the city. you switch the lights on around 5; you turn on your heater for the first time in seven months; you take out of storage the coat that you live in for the next five months; your face feels really cold when you're sleeping; you look longingly at your tank tops, skirts, and flip flops/chinese slippers (ha), sitting there so lonely in your drawer, and think of warmer times.

maybe the cold is just coming as a shock because we've had such a long and luxurious summer. my boss on my last job was trying to convince me that october really is the nicest month of the year in san francisco, and i guess he was right.

we used to have this paper skeleton door hanger that we put up on our door every halloween. his name was bones. my sister was particularly attached to him. i'm sure he's rotting away somewhere in the garage. my mom has always had a big thing for halloween: every year she buys enough candy for the entire sf unifed school district, which we proceed to eat well into the christmas season. she makes little goody bags for me, my sister, and our friends. and she loves pumpkins, especially the little mini ones. from where i'm sitting, i can spot five of them in a four-foot radius of me. my auntie's witch mask that traumatized me so when i was young in an incident i'd rather not talk about is lying on the couch, ready to scare more poor little five-year-old girls. sniffle.

anyways, enough with the nostalgia. i'm fleeing the weather and the freaks to go to l.a., for fires and some of my best friends from high school. i never return from l.a. without great stories and a renewed appreciation for home. see you in november.

Denny201 (3:46 AM): stanford boys are so replaceable aren't they
Denny201 (3:46 AM): like interchangeable parts

plants may not have brains, but at least they can take care of themselves
that is the title of a song i heard on the radio tonight, i kid you not!

instead of recapping what happened tonight and last friday night, i will refer you to both freesia and jaime's blogs, respectively.

i stayed in all day today and finished my first grad school app of this round of apps. feels decently good. i was pleasantly surprised that last year's personal statement required almost no editing. on the other hand, i spent hours and hours touching up my resume, debating the difference between "organized" and "managed" and whether i should spell out "United States" or just put "U.S." looking at the resume, i couldn't help but think: damn, i'd hire me. shoot. i've got a mad sexy resume, yo.

on a related note, my boss from this summer called me to follow up on the letter of recommendation he wrote for me. it was nice to talk to him. he was always very nice to margot and i, in an uncle-y sort of way, you know, supportive and caring, asking lots of good questions about your path in life, etc. he was always trying to steer us into law school, to which we politely nodded and smiled, even though neither of us intended to do that.

funny thing, though: tonight my mom said that she supported my decision to go to j-school, but was hoping that i would consider law school, and well, she continued, who knows, maybe i could do both? i was shocked, since i off-handedly mentioned law school just a few weeks ago (an idea i quickly abandoned), and i don't recall her jumping off her chair or anything. my mom is great because, in total atypical chinese mom style, she stays out of my decisions about my future and my sister's as well. sometimes i wonder what she really wanted me to be, but i know she's proud of what i've chosen to do. i know this because she and i have the same doctor, and the doctor tells me that my mom brags about my sister and i. aw shucks.

i know my dad is mad proud of me, too, because he thinks i'm really an artist at heart, like him. he has always pushed me to work more on my creative writing and move away from journalism, but i think i'm too chicken to do that. i think he's also down with me because he was an activist in the 1960s at city college, and he's happy to see me work on things like hardboiled because he's all about the people, too.

it's cool to have your parents be 100% behind anything you want to do. one less thing to worry about. i think they'd be alright if i told them i wanted to go back and get a degree in art history, or move to another country to work (for a year or so), or travel, or whatever. i've never had to stress about making them happy or getting them off my back or living up to their expectations. the only thing they've ever wanted was for my sister and i to be happy. and they really meant that, and not in the "we know what will make you happy, too" type of way either. my parents are pretty cool people.

at the risk of making this an obscenely long post, one more thing and i'm done. yesterday before i went out to meet kristin and freesia, my mom said to me, totally out of nowhere: "you never know, you might meet the man of your dreams tonight." i immediately replied that i had already met him. ah, my male readers, you're so vain, i bet you think this song is about you. and maybe it is. but my point is that i think i've met so many cool guys that it's highly likely that i've already met "the man of my dreams," although it's a concept that i don't really believe in anyways. i don't buy the lightning bolt, or the tingly feeling, or any type of immediate feeling of someone being The One. i also don't really have a laundry list of characteristics i look for in any ideal male prototype. i believe in connections (physical, emotional, intellectual, friendster) and in chemistry (thanks to bethany, summer '01). you just can't idealize or romanticize relationships. there is no empty pedestal in my life that i'm looking to fill with a guy. so why do i think i've already met this "man of my dreams"? i know a lot of guys who can be the "man of my dreams" for the night, or two weeks, two months, maybe even two years. and i'm pretty content with knowing just that fact. right now, that's enough for me.

per your request, i've added a comments feature. bring it, bitches!

agency

so there are the things you want to do and the things you don't want to do. but there are also the things you would do if you didn't have anything else better to do, and things you want to do, but suspect they won't be that fun per se. finally there are the things you don't want to do but feel like you should ("the veggies").

something that i have the biggest issue with is people telling me to do things. if you push me too much too quickly, it's an immediate no. i also don't give into guilt trips or whining. i'm also completely at the whim of how i feel the day of (even up to the hour of) the event, and if i don't feel like doing something, i usually don't do it. most of you know i'm not a big follow-through person.

but over time, i've come to believe in doing things that i don't want to do either for my own nebulous well-being or the tangible well-being of others. and most of the time these things have really paid off, gone beyond my expectations, and i ended up glad that i did them and proud of my good judgment.

lately, though, i haven't been enjoying my decisions, and now i'm just resentful at myself for doing things that i didn't want to do in the first place. maybe the pay off will come later. but for now i'm doubtful of anything that i have even remote reservations about. i'm taking my life back!

yeah right.

nobody broke your heart

on my drive home last night, i heard a beautiful song on the radio. it sounded like elliott smith, and the kid on the radio confirmed my guess. the song was called "alameda," and i went home immediately and downloaded it. man, i thought, i forgot how much i like his music. i should dig out those old albums...

i have to admit that i first heard his music from good will hunting, not exactly "i knew him before..." stuff, whatever that bullshit is. i think it was that last song in the movie that got me. it was the perfect accompaniment to that final shot, the back of a car driving, presumably, towards california and love (how ironic). i went out that week and bought the soundtrack, and it was simply beautiful. always been one of those cds i can just put on and listen to over and over. the songs were simple and sad; a man, his guitar, and a haunting, delicate voice. his stories were of heartbreak, disappointment, disillusionment, pain, and the temporary solace that alcohol and drugs bring. they were the songs that made me want to crawl into bed and under the covers and cry myself to sleep on cold rainy nights.

today was a warm windless day in san francisco, one of those rare days when you can leave the house without a sweater. and they say it's supposed to be sunny all weekend.

somehow, there's something to look forward to.

praha
And if they come for him, then this is how he wishes to be taken, from her arms, from this narrow little bed, which can scarcely bear the weight of the two of them ... Her hands are everywhere, her mouth is everywhere, their clothes, emptied, collapsed in a useless pile--let the Russians have them. Though they never left their beloved little apartment, they have made their successful escape, he and his wife with the beautiful pianist's hands and the hoarse voice and the soft day-old stubble on the top of her shaven head and the acquired taste of that tremendous jaw. His beautiful, brave wife: She would not choose to be anywhere else but here making love with him; she would choose a city under attack with him over any safe paradise that lacked him. And the list they have spent so many hours making, let it go, let the Russians burn it or eat it or give it to shrugging, stymied cryptologists. There is no frontier to cross that they cannot cross right here and now as their bodies merge--his and his wife's--as they close so tightly that there is no longer a clear distinction where one begins and the other ends; a fusion has occurred, as it does every time they are together; parts are exchanged, and no one finishes quite the same as they began. So let them have her piano, her easels and canvases and darkroom, all her secret papers from the embassy--the hell with all that.

god so after two months i finally finished prague. and in celebration, i'm going to relate a memory from my travels there a year and a half ago:

prague was the last weekend jaunt i took before i returned home from my year abroad, so it must have been around may 2002. biff, who was also studying abroad for a quarter, graciously offered to put me up for a few days, even though she was in the middle of finals. she was late to meet me at the airport (she accidentally got off the bus in front of a bar that had a sign that looked like a plane in front, which was nowhere near the airport), and i panicked because, well, i was by myself, it was late at night, and she wasn't answering her cell phone (i found out later she had lost it). by then, i knew that in travelling alone, everything that can go wrong will go wrong (i.e. VENICE, *shudder*). but she got there eventually, and we took a bus to the underground and went back to the converted hotel in the middle of the city where her program was housed. her place was beautiful--orange walls and french windows, and so clean.

biff was a great hostess, probably the best one i know. even though she had to go to classes during the day, she left me a key, her map, and detailed instructions on how to get to interesting places. i went to the old jewish quarter, the castle, the charles bridge. i wandered the city during the day and met up with her after her classes. biff is of ukranian descent, but apparently czech language is nothing like russian, so the language was just as intimidating for her as it was for me. it was great to have a guide who was familiar with the city and its history, especially its communist history. i was completely fascinated with it--i didn't exactly learn about life under communist rule in 10th grade history class. it was something totally unknown to or even hidden from me as an american. she showed me the old communist headquarters, dark and imposing. she showed me the communist housing ghetto, in the distance, a group of stern-looking blocks of concrete that reminded me of the sf state dorms. she pointed out the irony of the newly opened museum of communism being located next to a mcdonalds. she took me to frank gehry's beautiful "fred and ginger" building. we hiked up a hill and over a couple voraciously making out to a see great view of the river. the sun was out, and to me, coming from britain, it seemed as if i hadn't felt the sun in years.

biff's friends (all from the claremont colleges) were incredibly nice, if only a tad too american. we spent a good amount of time with them at night. we went out one night to a nice restaurant for her friends' birthday and then to a cavernous wine bar. i remember having a conversation with one of her friends from south carolina who hadn't met a black person until college. we ate a goulash dinner one night, and i remember being so ashamed that i could barely eat half of it. the prague beer was really strong and dark--i felt like it was putting hair on my chest. we had a bagel breakfast one morning at a great coffee shop, and she showed me the american ex-pat newspaper, the pill. until then, i never knew how many americans had defected to prague. biff told me about how the czechs resented the americans who flocked to their city to spend their dollars, which bought lots of czech crowns (i don't think the czech republic has the euro).

for some reason, my strongest memory of prague was at the airport right before i left. i tried to spend all my crowns before leaving, so i wouldn't have any left over, but when i got to the airport, i realized that i didn't have enough money for a proper lunch. unfortunately, i was also famished. i remember wandering the cafeteria, wondering how i was going to fill myself on the tiny amount i had. i ended up with a shriveled sausage and a soda. i don't know why i still remember that every now and then.

no romantic fling, no raucous partying, just a great time in a beautiful city.

untitled
saturday i pulled myself out of bed around 10:30 am (quite a feat) to go to berkeley to see michael moore speak at the greek. my friend imad from cal in the capital was supposed to have taken care of my ticket for me, but when i got there, it seems he thought i was getting my ticket from cherry. he ended up scoring an extra ticket from, ironically enough, a pasty republican ASUC senator. so, thanks, paul.

the greek was PACKED; in fact, sold out, and i've never seen it sold out before. it was a hot day in berkeley, and we were sitting in the sun, sweaty body next to sweaty body. moore made us all wait for about 45 minutes longer than expected, and in the meantime, the people i was sitting with started the short-lived wave that went around the stadium. that was a highlight. i have some problems with moore as a lecturer. he's a decent filmmaker, i guess, but a propagandist. he uses his statistics without citation and from questionable sources. he likes to vilify people instead of institutions. he spent a little too long talking about the presidential candidates. he borders on mediocre stand-up comedy at times. but he really can rouse the rabble, and they were indeed roused on saturday afternoon. berkeley folk love michael moore, and they cheered his every word. i did like his spiel on abortion, something to the effect of: "saying 'i am personally pro-life' is like saying 'i am personally pro-pigs flying' because i will never get pregnant and i will never have an abortion and so all men should really shut the fuck up about it." i couldn't agree moore (bah-dum-bum).

i left the show and returned to my car to find a nice parking ticket. yes, folks, two parking tickets in one week. this is why i hate having a car. the sign said "2 hour parking, saturdays and sundays excluded" so i thought i was fine. but it was also a yellow zone, so i guess yellow overrides all other signs. boo! i dejectedly drove back over the bridge and comiserated about my parking troubles at home. if anyone has any money to spare (these tickets are NOT cheap), send checks to the lisa parking fund.

i also had two similar conversations with lin and dennis, and i have to say that yesterday was a sad day for guys. they get screwed over by girls every day, and i know i do nothing personally to further their cause. yes, girls can be completely frustrating, and hypocritical, and vague, and emotionally fucked, and they screw with your head, saying one thing one day and another the next. and oh the games. you never really know what their agenda is. i know this, and i can't really give advice about it because each girl has a different agenda, and she keeps it carefully hidden. it's not like a code that only be deciphered by other girls; it can never be deciphered. in fact, the agenda is rarely known or acknowledged fully by the girl herself. it's a little easier if you get a girl who's upfront and forthcoming about things, but still, you never know. that's the best advice i can give to guys--you NEVER know what a girl is thinking, even when you THINK you do. even if they act a certain way, or say something, or, say, write something in their blog, you never really know if it's true, if that's what they really feel. don't rationalize it out, like "oh, well, she has no reason to lie." girls don't need a reason to lie. they do it just for freaking fun. i feel like girls who read this blog are going to give me shit for saying this. but i mean, is it really false?!?

ok. anyway. last night biff and i went to oakland to see the coup and crown city rockers play a benefit concert (yes, i was in the east bay three times in two days). it was a totally awesome show, and i heartily encourage all to peep both bands. it's hip hop, people. good stuff. we came back to sf and had a great late-night snack at mel's on geary, talking about our dream jobs, grad school, the difficulties of leaving san francisco, and woody allen's older work vs. his newer work.

this week bodes more spurts of running about intercut with spurts of slacking. l.a. trip has been confirmed: oct. 31-nov. 4, foos.

lend me some sugar, i am your neighbor!
it's been an exciting few nights in the bay. last night i went to popscene with biff and her pomona friends. i have never been to popscene before; no, i never went in high school. for all you not in the know, popscene is one of the only 18+ clubs in sf (the other is club platinum). the music is brit pop/indie rock/80s, and the scene is mod/emo/underage. we took swigs of gin in the parking lot next to the club before going in. i was told the dress was "mod," so i was there in my black eyeliner and nude lips. unfortunately, most of the crowd was emo-punk-kelly-osborne, so i felt a little out. but once they played "date with the night" by the yyys, and we hotboxed aaron's car, i knew everything would be allllright. the music's pretty good, but the cure can be hard to dance to, you know? but it's a fun spot, in a sort of tongue-in-cheek-high-school-prom sort of way. "pretty in pink" was playing on the tvs in the club, so that added to the mood.

today was a beautiful warm sunny day and freesia and i made our way over to berkeley and then wasted some time at bay street, aka the bougie-est mall in the bay. i mean damn. came back home for friday pizza night, and watched some felicity season 1 on dvd. watching felicity is actually really painful--it's like going back in time to senior year high school, and re-living all those awkward emotions. it reminds me so much of myself then, when i was totally absorbed in my emotions, and acted on them completely, making myself look ridiculous. and would i have gone to college just for a boy? yes. even the way she dresses hits a nerve--i remember how i dressed out of high school, and it makes me a little embarrassed. i was so self-conscious and awkward and nervous and overwhelmed. it's not a time i love to re-live, but at least i know that felicity becomes more poised, self-assured, and mature over the years. hopefully i'll get there someday, too. ;)

sorry for that digression. anyways, so three felicity episodes later, frees and i went to the mission (biff: "the mish") to meet ali, kristin, marisa, and some davis folk at a bar called skylark. it seems cool, except it was hot as HELL on the dance floor in the back--sweaty, humid, blech. but they played my jam (seed v. 2.0), so i was happy. ali and the crew went back to her car to sip on e&j, but frees and i said "payce" and cut out. so here i am.

pretty packed schedule this weekend. does it ever end? where's the lisa time?!

mumblings of the bot!

xSgtMeatx (11:01 PM): i mean
xSgtMeatx (11:01 PM): wonderful
xSgtMeatx (11:01 PM): i mean tendency
xSgtMeatx (11:01 PM): ok do you don't
xSgtMeatx (11:01 PM): i mean so
xSgtMeatx (11:01 PM): sorry ic na't function

blogspot's kinda freaking out on me tonight, so i hope this goes through.

today was the kind of day that is representative of a larger theme of my life: being irresponsible. i don't think i was always this irresponsible. in fact, i was pretty damn responsible in high school, driving my friends home, calling when i was going to be home late, not drinking and driving, always taking the proper precautions, etc. somewhere in the last 3-5 years, however, i've abandoned much of that former, more responsible self. i thought growing older meant becoming more responsible, not less.

nowadays, i'm a child, quite the spoiled brat. i wake up really late, and can't be bothered to get up to answer the phone/doorbell, even when it's an old friend calling to meet up for coffee while she's visiting the bay or to sign for a package (second attempt now). i drink till i puke. i drive drunk. i run red lights. i flake on people all the time. i arrive late to all appointments. i run up $200 phone bills on my cell phone. i tell people i'll do things for them, and never follow through. i write nasty emails and carelessly send them to the person i'm writing about. and let's not even get started on guys.

so i guess it shouldn't have been to my surprise today that i got a $50 parking ticket for parking in a truck-only loading zone. it was just for ten minutes to run into urban to exchange something. i run up to the metermaid, but it was already done. strangely, i wasn't that pissed off. i think maybe deep down, i know i deserve it, and more. i'm an irresponsible person, and i don't get what i deserve often enough. in fact, i skate by on a lot, mostly luck and the tolerance of others. and i know it. margot would call this "youngest child syndrome" -- i know how far i can push people, and i take advantage of this. i'm used to people forgiving me for my faults. it takes a lot to make me feel guilty, and it's not helping that one of the stanford boys convinced me that guilt is a useless emotion. dc definitely enhanced my irresponsible tendencies by pairing me with some of the most tolerant and caring people on earth, bless their hearts. but now i'm on a fucking downward spiral. somebody stop me. hold me accountable. make me keep my word. be angry at me when i don't. make me show up to things on time. tell me when you think i'm trying to do too much at once. remind me that i can't make everyone happy and it's ok to say "no" to some things sometimes. remind me of past consequences. help.

it's not a 'superiority conflict' when we know we're better
email from biff (keep those recall jokes comin!):

Hey dude,

nice article, thanks for passing it on. I can dig "Sco" but never "Frisco" although the etymology bit was pretty cool. i kind of want to get a sweatshirt with a district name on it, but not anything as unhip as "Mission", "Fillmore" or "Sunset" . If you are a true Sanfrsiscan you would call these places "Tha 'Mish", "Da 'Mo" and "the 'Set". But honestly, I think that we SFers are just getting too hip for even ourselves. I think it's time to take this superiortity conflict a bit further and just secede. We could even have our own governor. That was too easy, I recall that last joke.

ah, libertad
back to the 2am-12pm sleep cycle. but i've been keeping busy. friday i peeled myself away from the iBook to go to berkeley to pick up my diploma and order some transcripts. i have to admit i did get a little excited seeing my name there with my degree and stuff. it's a big achievement, man. i was also relieved that gray davis' signature was on there, and not arnold's. glad i got out when i did. then i came back to sf and got de-briefed (kimi: "haaay!") with the steering committee of the campaign.

saturday i hung out with kimi at stonestown for a little bit, and we ran into the better luck tomorrow cast. we happened to be walking into borders as they were being escorted out before their dvd signing session. it was ben, stephanie, and daric (i don't know their real names). ben is short, i didn't really get a look at stephanie (sorry, guys), and daric seemed skinnier. later that night i watched about schmidt with biff and kimi, and then went to a bar in japantown for a fundraiser with some folks from the campaign.

sunday was a beautiful day again, and i went to orinda with biff and reagan for a pool party. the house was absolutely beautiful, like mtv cribs, but even nicer than some of those houses. the weather was perfect, and the company (pomona folk) was fun.

getting grad school apps. ready for next semester. trying to set up a trip to LA around halloween, i'll be in touch with you socal fools.

recent downloads: "get by," talib kweli, "danger," erykah badu, "hands down," dashboard confessional (don't clown!), "lady don't tek no," lyrics born

forrealtho
"There is no shortage of Asian-American women who don't mind going on camera and engaging in sex, showing their faces and bodies," Hamamoto says. "You'd think there would be tons of Asian-American men who'd want to do this. What it comes down to is [Asian-American males] don't want to represent. If they continue to do that, they deserve all the shit they get" from stereotyping.

Rad Nar!
Saw Lyrics Born with the Quannum Collective at Bimbo's tonight--great show, but the Slim's one in early-mid-2002 (can't remember) was better. Joyo Velarde is freaking cool (pinays, what?), and LB is always makes things fun. DJ Shadow made a small cameo at the end, but I don't think he was even spinning. DJ Shadow is elusive to me--I did see him open for Underworld back in 1999 (2000?) at Bill Graham, but I'll never forget going all the way out to Manchester from Birmingham in 2001 just to see the fool and finding out the show was sold out. The Brits and Europeos in general love underground hip hop, and they got mad love for Shadow. I was a little disappointed that he only did one of his old classics (Lady Don't Tek No), but it was my favorite LB song. Gift of Gab did Alphabet Aerobics (you missed out Frees). Graduating from college is great cuz I get to go to concerts whenever the fuck I want to.

It was the type of show where I loved being in SF and being from SF, the best city in the world. I think I love SF most when I'm driving up Columbus through North Beach facing the TransAmerica Pyramid, past all the little Italian cafes and bars. Or when I'm driving down Market near Freesia's house and there's that curve and you can see all of downtown in one beautiful panorama. Or driving down one of those hills with the cable car tracks (powell?) towards the Bay, with Alcatraz right in front there. For being born and raised here, I am still a sucker for the typical tourist shit.

Watched Love and Basketball today with the F. It was eh. I don't know why everyone loves it so much. Then I went over to Frees' and we had a tee-shirt deconstruction/reconstruction/tricking-out partay while listening to Dashboard Confessional (I know, I know, I've sold out to emo). Fuck Harry Potter 2! Hella boring, I fell asleep each of the two times we attempted watching it. Freesia's got a crush on Ron, so she stayed awake.

God, I really hate AIM. I feel like a lot of people are going through a hate AIM and hate Friendster period. I'm definitely there.

Recap on the last few days:
Tuesday we won the election and defeated Prop. 54. I went to the victory parties, had four drinks (magic number again!), and felt really happy.
Wednesday I went to my new doctor and got scolded for answering in the negative to the question "Do you exercise?" Also found out I lost about 5 pounds in the past month. To celebrate/lament this, I spent $86 at Crossroads, and solidified my title as Label Whore by buying a pair of Paper Denim and Cloth jeans. Went to lunch with Frees at King of Thai, got Rad Nar (rock on!) coma, and took a nap with Falcor on Frees' bed. Oh, Falkie...

From this month's Teen People (i get a free subscription, alright??): "Georgia Faust got literary with an Eminem bio (page 56): 'I don't normally read biographies, but this one was really cool. I also love The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald.'"

anonymous email excerpt
"There was no catfight. Bryan and his gf went off on their own. Julie, Andrew, and I went to their place (Andrew & bryan’s) and just hung out for awhile. Then bryan came with her and they went upstairs to have sex—end of story."

parlay?
on friday night i went straight from work to 26 mix to celebrate my sister's birthday. yes i was at work until 11 PM. luckily there was no dress code, and i wasn't dressed grubby, so i could just go straight. met up with kris and frees, and then jaime rolled through with her friends. it was cool to talk to my sis' friends; they're a strange bunch. lots of screechy girls and mellow guys. one of my sister's friends said that he expected me to be exactly like laurie, but i'm totally different from her, namely i'm much more sarcastic (my sister has no comebacks, can you imagine...). another friend of laurie's said i'm a total soap opera. that is more than partly true, and i have said it myself in recent months. anyways, it was a pretty good night, since i had four drinks (magic number), the last one was a henney shot (oh, memories), and i only had to pay for one of them (haaay). the thing about older guys (i.e. guys with jobs) is that they are very liberal with their money at the bar. can't hate on that!

saturday i got up early to supervise a precinct walk for the campaign in the sunset. i was nervous about having all the responsibility, but it went really well. after the precinct walk, i had to go into work, but i ran into hella traffic downtown, which made me all pissy. went into work for a few hours, picked up freesia, and went over to berkeley to see theatre rice. met up with alice, jaime, and tommie. we didn't get in until the second act. it was alright: better luck tomorrow the musical was hilarious! then we went to a co-op party where i met up with some old hb folk. many tiny dixie cups of spiked lemonade, a mojito, a pot cookie, a few pot brownies, and a sour apple shot later, we were all ready to go to the theatre rice party to cause a hardboiled ruckus, but when we got there the cops pulled up to shut it down. too bad.

one more day before the election! then back to sitting on my ass.
anyone want to see lyrics born/quannum collective with me at bimbo's on thursday??

new trends for fall:
-newsboy caps: something about newsboy caps make guys look a lot better. note this does not mean that it will make all guys magically cute. but it will definitely accentuate the pre-existingly cute guys.
-JAs: And you thought you got over J-league guys. don't call it a comeback.
-older guys/law school guys: climbing the charts, but it is TBD if i'll be jumping on that bandwagon. at least they're not business school guys?

iTunes: "caravan," blur