Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Since some of you haven't seen it...

This is my 16th and latest tattoo (got it Aug 08). It's some of Emy Storey's artwork from Tegan & Sara's last album, The Con. The tattoo itself was done by my fabulous artist Robin, aka Solokill. She is currently drawing up tattoo #17 for me (a ganesh) and we are going to start working on it on April 17 :D

Stop hateful words



My fundraising has been stuck at 23% to goal for weeks now! Anyone with a blog and a few minutes to spare... would you mind giving me a shout out? Or just tweet the link? I'm walking 60 miles in one weekend in August for the Breast Cancer 3-Day, benefiting Susan G. Komen. I'm training all summer and I have to raise $2300 by the time of the walk (or else I have to drop out or pay the rest myself)...


Also, stay tuned for Karaoke/Bar Night Fundraiser info :D

Monday, March 30, 2009

Spoilery (if you havent watched the end of the L Word)

So, when the last episode of the L Word aired, leaving everyone with a million questions, we were all pissed off and frustrated. Many of us gave our theories as to what really happened, or what happened next, to try and 'fix' what IFC screwed up. The negative for Lez Girls was found in Jenny's attic and so many people assumed that she did actually take them and that her whole plea to Tina was a lie. I wasn't so sure. Then at the end of the show, Leisha gave her little webisode speech and said to watch for more interrogation tapes AND to see who stole the negative. No one else seemed to hear that as I didn't see it mentioned in any recap. My guess was that it was Niki. I said it in a recap comment somewhere (scribegrrl? autostraddle?). Niki had motive- either the movie was too bad, too embarrassing or she hated the straightened out ending, or she was just pissed at Jenny, or she was trying to help Jenny (see how effed up things are with IFC's story lines?!)- AND SHE HAD KEYS! Niki had keys to Jenny and Shane's place at the time that the negatives were stolen because she used them to let herself (and Shane) in during the great Fuck Around of 08/09... And now Niki's interrogation tape is up. And guess what? She admits to stealing the negatives and hiding them in Jenny's attic!

I don't know why I'm so excited. The show is still over and the ending still sucked. But this was the least disturbing of the tapes so far. And at least one thing IFC wrote made sense/was plausible. I'm just saying..

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Singing, it does a lady good

Ever heard of Valeria Andrews from Sydney, Australia? Are you sure? Perhaps you'll remember her from this (she starts the song)-

She co-wrote the full song (it plays during the credits and is available on the interwebs). This was my favorite movie for years!
Valeria has done some other acting, but now she has a pretty decent music career. Check this video out. (embedding is disabled but it is so worth the click, trust me)

Snowy Sunday

It's March 29th and it's snow storming. What shite. Soonly I am going to pull on my boots and head to the store. But first I thought I'd share a few happy-making videos. Happy (Snowy) Sunday!

I've been a huge Margaret Cho fan since All-American Girl. She just keeps getting better-

I think we’ve all seen this. It’s funny. And we still love Twitter-

This cute sapphic storyline on the Spanish soap opera Cuestión de Sexo has made me want to brush up my español-
I heart Ana Fernández (Sophia). She’s an adorable little gay-for-pay (I'm assuming, but we would fo shiz take her on the team!)…


So, my next painting assignment (after this cursed construction 'painting') is a master reproduction. I spent several hours tonight going through my dozens of art books trying to narrow my choice down to a painting that I both LOVE and can actually reasonably COPY. No easy feat since I'm a big fan of Van Gogh and Dali and Magritte and I'm just not that good. What I did find was a brilliant painting to add to my favorites- J. M. W. Turner's The Burning of the Houses of Parliament, 1834. I can't stop looking at it, marveling at the glow of the fire over the water. But I know it's not something I can do any justice.

Another painting that I love love love and am actually considering trying to reproduce is Van Gogh's Japonaiserie (after Hiroshige), 1887. Or any of his Japanese influenced pieces, really. He did some brilliant almond blossoms and landscapes as well.

I also think I'd like to take a crack at a Max Ernst, but a lot of my favorites of his are 3D/construction type pieces. There is however his painting M Portrait, or The Letter, 1924. It's about automatic writing and I find the whole painting and concept to be very interesting. I'll leave you all with that because this I don't intend to bore anyone with an art history lesson. Otherwise I could quite possibly go on forever.

April Update: I will be doing my reproduction after Monet's Evening in Venice, 1908. It was a hard choice, and just in case that doesn't work out, Franz Marc's Yellow Cow (Gelbe Kuh), 1911 is my close second choice.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

See also: Salt, take with a grain of

So I pretty much tweeted everything I did in NY as I was doing it- stores, restaurants, shows- and now I haven't much felt like writing an actual blog about it. Maybe this weekend. BUT I did want to share a bit of 'wisdom' that was shared with me during brunch at Pastis. Here are some words to live by from Marta:

-Uterus = In Only (If she has a child it will be via scheduled c-section)
-Anus = Out Only (Self explanantory, I suppose)
-Never hit on 16 in Blackjack (It could go either way, but you need to have a rule so you don't waver. Can also be applied to the anus rule...)

That's all.

(except this ps)
ps- I took this picture of Picasso's Demoiselles d'Avignon at the MOMA

Tuesday, March 24, 2009


I finally finished my fish montage painting, at least to the standards it needs to be at for tonights midterm. Obviously I could work on the details for hours, days, weeks... but that's just insane. It's not like I'm getting paid for it or anything ;)

Monday, March 23, 2009

Sweet, Sexy, Smart, (Sapphic)

I should be finishing my painting for my midterm tomorrow night. The painting that I should have finished last week before I spent spring break in New York. So of course I am on YouTube instead. I was always a procrastinator in high school/undergrad. I work better that way, with a little added pressure. Some things never change, they just use more technology.

I still miss this show-

Smart, funny, beautiful... Ellen hit the jackpot!-

This song says it all-

Once a renthead, always a renthead-

I adore this movie right now-

I could watch/listen to this version of this song forever-

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Sitting, Sighing

[I’ll have to post this later because I’m not about to pay $6.95 to get online at the airport when I just paid $15 to check my only suitcase! Hopefully I don’t lose too many twitter followers once I get really bored and start tweeting like mad.]

I’m sitting here outside gate H5, 20 minutes before my flight is supposed to leave. Except now it’s not leaving for about an hour. Yay, rah. I always debate with myself over how early to get to the airport. I hate being late for things, or even barely on time, but I also hate hate hate waiting at the airport in these stupid little chairs, touching feet and backpacks with strangers. Well, I always hate touching feet and backpacks with strangers, let’s be honest. But I managed to convince myself, and therefore my ride Moo, that I didn’t need to leave my house before 9:30 or so for a flight at 11:15. And it worked. By the time I was through security, done buying a bottle of water, and done using the facilities, I was at my gate at 10:30. I was proud of myself. Almost time to board for an 11:15 flight. And then I read the stupid departure screen. “Flight 378 to LaGuardia Departs: 11:15 Now 11:49” Fuck. I can’t ever win. Not even just a little bit. I can’t sit toe to toe with strangers for an hour. Do you know how hard it is to avoid eye contact for that long? My inner hermit is cringing. He is slightly agoraphobic. So I’ve retreated to the floor and I’m writing this to look less awkward. Yep. I’m cool like that.

Update from the plane:
We are finally all seated, buckled with cell phones off by 11:40. Then the captain starts his announcements and shares with us that, he doesn’t know if they announced it in the airport, but our ‘wheels-up’ time isn’t actually until 12:20. So we have 40 minutes to sit there. Then he gave us a 10 minute window in which to use our cell phones and, I’m guessing, update people with our new(est) departure time. All in all, my flight that should have landed at 2:20pm didn’t land until 3:10. Hopefully the flight home fairs better… NY you better be worth this.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009


I keep this old post around because it still seems to hold true. Most of it, anyway. I quit my job and moved a mile south. But the rest is still the same.
2006-19-06, LiveJournal
Verbatim. Mostly. (a myspace xpost)

So here I am. The fireflies are out tonight. So are the fools. I got sick of sitting in my apartment so I grabbed some essentials (pencil, paper, Ipod, keys, ID, cash) and headed for Foster Beach. It's a little past sunset. The sky is beautiful. 'Out Tonight' is playing on MyPod- how apropos. Now don't get me wrong- I love Chicago. I love my family and my friends. My job is pretty cool. But I'm in another one of those funks where I want to sell all my shit, drop everything and just go. Move. Something. Everything. Last time I wanted to teach English in Korea. But that's 2 years in a tiny room. That's only a little different than what I have now- 2 rooms in a predominantly Vietnamese area. I'm just so sick of this country and its excess and its politics and its hypocrisy. That's not to say that I'm above it or free of it or anything. But I'm drowning in it. And I have to do something. I've tried different things. I bury myself in cds and dvds and books. I give money to the DNC, the HRC, IL PIRG... all these places. I've signed up for this Breast Cancer walk. But it only makes me feel a little better. I'm not making any great changes or contributions. No one is going to remember me. Hardly anyone even knows who I am now. Not that I need to be 'known' but everyone wants validation and acceptance, right? So the thing I've been thinking about lately is moving. Far away. I want to see things. Different things. Beautiful things. More beautiful things than I can see here. The other day driving home from work I saw a 12- or 13-year-old boy randomly walk up to a 20-something year old girl, give her a flower that he had picked, and then walk away. It was random and beautiful but it makes me sad that it is so rare and noteworthy to see something that simple and meaningful.

I want to live in Spain- the art and the architecture and the history and the language and the coexistence of many peoples (and religions). And it is a predominantly Catholic society where same-sex marriage is legal and accepted. I want to live in Canada (Toronto)- it's a lot like the US, but it's cleaner and less crowded, and again, same-sex marriage is legal. And how many wars has Canada been in lately? I want to live in India. I've always admired the culture, art, food, dress, religion- everything. I was fascinated by Devon street, growing up in Little India. The cost of living in India is so much lower. And the people have so little but seem more kind. Or at least less judgemental. I don't know. I've never been. It just appeals to me. I could have a beautiful, 2 story, 3 bedroom, 3 bathroom bungalow there, with a private garden and terrace, reserved parking, ocean view and more for just over $100 thousand. That's unheard of. I could just sell all the crap I own (aside from a few essentials) and buy property somewhere in Southeast Asia and live off the money I have and write and adventure and talk to people and try and give back at least as much as I take from society and the planet. How easy would that be? How much more simple? I don't think I could live without my music and a few good volumes to read, but really, besides that, how much of my shit do I need? None of it, really. I realize that most of you think I'm all talk, and I probably am. That doesn't mean that I'm not sincere. Just because I don't sell it all and flee the country doesn't mean that I don't really want to or that I'm not capable. I'm just afraid. Of being alone. Of missing my family (and close friends). Of being forgotten about. So maybe someone could come with me. We can start an adventure together. Travel the world. Photograph it. Write about it. Soak it in. Talk about it. Appreciate it. Breathe it. Live it. Maybe someday. For now I am going to walk a bit more and then go home (and type this into MySpace because I'm lame like that), and go to bed and get ready for another fun-filled stretch at work.

The cops on ATVs just flew past, leaving tracks in the sand and the scent of gas in the air. So the aura is ruined and my time here is done.

Another note- the song on MyPod as I arrived home and sat down to type this was Frou Frou's Maddening Shroud. Again, very apropos. See for yourself- here are the lyrics:

Sometimes I like to get away from this maddening shroud
Sometimes I'll have you know, it's all insane
Maybe it's time for me to pack it in
Maybe it's time for me to jack it in
Maybe it's time for me to halt
I've got a good mind to throw it all away
Throw it all away
Throw it all away
I've got a good mind to throw it all away
After all, what is it worth
Sometimes I like to get away from this saddening crowd
Sometimes I feel my life is all in vain
Maybe it's time for me to pack it in
Maybe it's time for me to jack it in
Maybe it's time for me to halt
I've got a good mind to throw it all away
Throw it all away
Throw it all away
I've got a good mind to throw it all away
After all, what is it worth
Some days my strength walks out
Some days I can't go on
It is for real
We can walk about
We can work it over and over and over and over and over
I've got a good mind to throw it all away
Throw it all away
Throw it all away
I've got a good mind to throw it all away
After all, what is it worth
I've got a good mind to throw it all away
Throw it all away
Throw it all away
I've got a good mind to throw it all away
After all, what is it worth

Starting Somewhere

When I was little my brother Jeffrey and I used to listen to Raffi on his Fisher Price tape recorder. Sometimes we listened to his Teddy Ruxpin tapes as well, but those were generally reserved for his bedtime. Jeff couldn't sleep without watching his Teddy Ruxpin. We would play Baby Beluga over and over again on I would dance around, sing along. Jeff couldn't because he was in a wheelchair. Next week he will be gone 5 years. But the last time we listened to something on his Fisher Price recorder while I danced around, I was nearly 7 and he was just 4. He had his birthday and we had Thanksgiving and that's the last time I remember him. Our dad used to sing 'Don't Worry, Be Happy' for us sometimes. Before he stopped picking me up for visits. That song still makes me sad. I talk to my dad again, at least occasionally. More when my sisters are home from school and want to see me. We try and make like we've worked things out, that it's all water under the bridge. Mostly it is. But they have new songs now, my dad, stepmom and sisters. They know the Beatles birthday song and sing along all at once and I feel left out because my sisters arrived after my dad stopped taking me for his weekends. My mom, stepdad, brother and I don't have a song. When I have kids, we'll have a song that we sing and that makes us dance and smile. And I won't ever pretend they aren't mine.