Writing

Choose Your Own Adventure

 

I’ve discovered as of late, that my creative output is directly related to the amount of uncomfortable experiences I encounter on a weekly basis (for example, last week’s run-in with my housemate who tried doing her best impression of Danny Bonaduce circa 1989) . When my life is traversing down the proverbial road, resembling a drunk driver looking for the glowing beacon of an all-night Taco Bell, my writing is at it’s peak. When I work 12 hour days and fall asleep in my work clothes at 10PM next to a bottle of Don Juilo, my writing lags. So, in order for me to fulfill the promise I made to myself as I drove east from California to Texas with no plan other than to write, I’m will begin actively seeking out fish-out-of-water scenarios for myself and the sake of my writing.
Here are some examples of what I would like to experience:
-I’ve always wanted to drive through the bayou and “accidently” come across an old Southern Baptist church. A heavenly light will gleam through the (more…)
October 19, 2009 by
Writing

Writers With Boobies

funny enough, this writer has no boobies

I’m one of those assholes that has four million dude friends, and like, two friends that can confidently say they have vaginas.

Ever since I was a young’en, I naturally gravitated towards the male gender (I always fancied myself as Annie Hall talking to her psychiatrist about penis envy). I typically listen to male vocalists- David Byrne, David Bowie, Danny Elfman (I love me some men with “D” names). I read books by males- David Sedaris, Chuck Klosterman, and Bret Easton Ellis (ugh…can I get anymore disgustingly hipster?) and my favorite performers are Crispin Glover, Paul Reubens, and Gene Wilder (all whom at one point or another I had mad crushes on).

So it comes as a great and wonderful surprise that my favorite blogs are run by the most incredible people out there without penises!
If you’re one of those folks that enjoys reading blogs (when you should really be working, jackass! i see you!!!), but can never figure out where to find them, well look (more…)
October 15, 2009 by
Writing

Single White Female (But Without the Stalking Part)

My current roommate is bat shit crazy.

Now, I know people throw the term around loosely (“Dude, my colon just went bat shit crazy after I ate that four day-old Indian food), however, my roommate is truly bat shit crazy (I just Googled the origin of “bat shit crazy” and no one seems to know where it came from. There are some very heavy duty theories involving Native Americans collecting guano in caves, the guano containing parasites, and the parasites attacking the humans therefore making the host “bat shit crazy”. In my mind, “bat shit crazy” looks like someone crawling around on their hands and knees with cartoon popped-out eyes licking bat shit off the ground. Like how Christopher Lloyd looked in “Who Framed Roger Rabbit”, but instead of getting rolled over by a steam roller, he licks poop off the ground).

I started writing this piece a few days ago when I thought the craziness had reached it’s peak.

It was far from over.

Right now, I’m sitting in my house watching cops escort (more…)

October 11, 2009 by
Austin

Break-Dancing Pregnant Ladies and Sh*t-Flinging Hipster Chicks


Friday Oct. 2nd Day #1

8AM: Dream about Billy Ocean without really knowing what Billy Ocean looks like. Wake up slightly aroused.

8:15AM: Lay in bed listening to your 47 year-old roommate singing folk songs in the shower.

8:32AM: In the shower, notice that your razor blade is as dull as a Harrison Ford interview and decide that unshaven legs are appropriate for a day where truck loads of jobless, unshowered trust fund babies arrive into town for the Austin City Limits music festival. The #2 festival in Austin. The Frank Stallone, DeDee Pfeiffer, or Roger Clinton of South by Southwest.

8:45AM: Discover that the road from your house into town is blocked off due to the festival. Drive around for forty-five minutes, then eventually find office located only five miles away.

9:30AM: Curse the words “Austin”, “City”, and “Limits” and laugh maniacally when John Aielli informs radio listeners that it will rain all weekend.

9:31: Arrive at the office delirious and hungry. Office is vacant due to your (more…)

October 4, 2009 by
Writing

What I Learned While On Vacation with My Mother in New York

1. ) I erroneously figured that of all people on this wonderful and diverse planet, my 82 year-old Jewish Grandmother would share the same amount enthusiasm for the lamé fanny pack as I. Imagine my genuine surprise when she did not. In fact, when I showed her the image of the fanny pack online, and with high inflection said, “You want one of those?”, she wrinkled up her nose and gave me a look that said, “Do I look like a huge asshole?”. A wave of heartbreak overcame me. Of all people! The woman who wears heels to the gym!
I momentarily had forgotten that she was the sovereign of fashion in the family and she immediately washed away my forlorn with the offer of her laced trimmed black leggings (In this photo, she is wearing my nonprescription American Apparel glasses. She is being ironic).


2.) Pilots that misjudge how much fuel the airplane has and then break the door to the craft, are asked not to fly your plane any longer. In fact, the airline will ask an off-duty pilot sitting in seat (more…)

October 2, 2009 by
Writing

What I Learned While on Vacation With My Mother in Oregon

1.) I smirk like Michael C. Hall. Not in pictures, not to people, but in those little self-gratifying “a-ha” moments which typically occur in public and most likely make me look smug. The problem is, I hate that smirk. I hated when he did it on “Six Feet Under” and I hate how he does it on “Dexter”. Why did I develop this problem? Why?

2.) This is the first time I’ve seen my mother in 9 months and I was confused and disappointed to discover that the phrase, “Cool beans!” comes out of her mouth after each excitable moment. I casually mentioned to her that it’s not 1998 anymore but she says she can’t help it. I love her nonetheless.
3.) Some breed of fly has taken over coastal Oregon. They swarm onto you by the dozens and stick to your body. It makes you realize what rotten fruit must feel like.

4.) Oregon is way too clean. Look, I lived in the state where three of the dirtiest beaches in the country are located. I’m used to a little poop in my drinking water. My first introduction to Venice (more…)
September 23, 2009 by
Writing

I Left My Stomach in Oregon

I’m sick.
Sicker than dirt.
No, wait.
Sicker than a dog.
I take my first real vacation, well, almost ever, to the Oregon Coast and I get sick exactly two hours after I land in Portland.
Mouth ajar, snot trickling out nose, mumbling intelligible words to my mother.
“What did you just say?!” she barks.
“Slememenemen”, I respond back.

Then after eating at Mo’s about three hours ago, I get cramps.
So right now I’m being a whiny little bitch.
I can’t close my mouth and my stomach sounds like whales mating.
Enjoy these pictures below. I’m too weak to explain fully what they are. First person who figures out what they’re from gets…uh…a coupon for 75 cents f(2) Morningstar frozen food items.

I’ll give you a hint.
It’s something from your childhood (unless you’re an old person).


September 22, 2009 by
Writing

Crosseyed and Painless

Maybe I shouldn’t have gone to the taco stand for the third day in a row…
It’s Friday and it’s raining in Austin! What a marvelous day! Mama Jewess is coming into town this weekend (before we embark on our trip to Portland), I’m mostly moved in to my new place, and I’m trying to think of ways to avoid talking to the guy I last dated who will be walking into my office in 80 minutes. I was going to run an “errand” while he is here and put Mannequin Baby or Glenda in my place. Any suggestions would be nice.

Today I posted my first post on East Austinite.
East Austin is the South’s version of LES. Except instead of punks and graffiti artists, it’s men who love their bikes more than women and women who love American Apparel more than men. Wait, I guess that could qualify as LES too. Well, you won’t see a bunch of dudes with beards playing techno-folk on a front porch in New York, will you?
Anyways, I’m really excited about joining the East Austinite team. Their blog is the (more…)
September 11, 2009 by
Writing

Home is Where I Want to Be, Pick Me Up and Turn Me ‘Round….

I’ve been working a lot. A LOT. So I’m recycling old stuff. I’m sorry. Here you go.
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I wrote an essay arguing the quote, “You can never go home again”. I stated that Thomas Wolfe didn’t know what the hell he was talking about and you can indeed go home again. In fact, I wrote that home can be in multiple places and I took the opportunity to quote my favorite Talking Heads song in the title, “Home is where I want to be, but I guess I’m already there” (I will use any excuse to quote Talking Heads in my writing).

Actually, I think I’m the one who’s full of shit. I’m 25. Why I thought I was an expert on this matter is beyond me.
As I write this, I’m in Upstate New York at the “home” I grew up in. I’m visiting from where my current “home” is in Austin, TX. However, I’m missing my “home” in L.A. where I have left most of my large possessions and a brick-walled studio apartment in Koreatown. So, one could say that my heart is in three places- New York, California, and Texas. (more…)
September 10, 2009 by
Writing

Robert Evans’ Skank Tried to Slug Me

I had completely forgotten about the above statement until today, when I was talking to Adrian about the wonderful documentary THE KID STAYS IN THE PICTURE. If you’ve never seen it, it is the documentary-style adaptation of Hollywood producer Robert Evans’ autobiography of the same name. Evans was and is a colorful character, having epotimized Hollywood cool in the 1970’s (he was married to Ali MacGraw, friends with Jack Nicholson and produced THE GODFATHER, CHINATOWN, and ROSEMARY’S BABY) and Hollywood down-and-out in the 1980’s (he was convicted of trying to buy cocaine and linked to the murder of an investor).

Here is a little backstory…
I was a featured player on a barely known TLC reality series called “Going Hollywood”. The show chronicled the day-to-day adventures of three fresh-of-the-bus interns working at Robert Evans’, Method Man’s, and my boss’ respective production companies. My role was to help show our intern, Ian, the ropes. Ian ended up working at our company after (more…)
September 8, 2009 by