"I wanna make love in this club...in this club...in this club...in this club...so on and so forth...etc....in this club"

What exactly constitutes appropriate bar and club attire in this city? In Montana, you can wear a sweatshirt, jeans and snow boots - as long as you do your hair and add makeup. Boulder, CO was similarly casual, though you would probably don a nicer shirt, better shoes and add a necklace.

My impression of the club scene here is, frankly, a bit trashy. Too much skin, frightening amounts of cleavage, shirts worn as dresses - sans leggings, and high, high heels. Makeup applied with spatula, big earrings, big hair and french tip nails. None of this is my style (except maybe unintentionally big hair).

What to do, what to do?


I am always surprised when a weekend goes really smoothly; no drama, no bumps in the road. I admit, I don't go with the flow very easily if I have made plans. If I plan to have no plan, I'm fine. But if you tell me you're going to go to dinner with me Friday night, I look forward to it all week. I think about what I'm going to order, what I'm going to wear, how much fun it's going to be. Then, if you cancel, I'm pretty disappointed. Especially if my backup plan ends up being sitting at home, watching my old Tevoed copy of Harold and Kumar Go to Whitecastle.

Luckily, this weekend was wonderful. I met up with my boyfriend's childhood friend and his wife on Friday - we had a lovely time eating out at this strange restaurant here in LA, the Formosa. Surprisingly good pad thai, for future reference.

Saturday the boyfriend and I braved IKEA, to hunt down a suitable futon sofa for my best friend's impending visit. I went crazy and chose a big, purple sofa to replace our wimpy loveseat. Pleasant surprise - the place wasn't packed. We also found a garage sale down our block, to which we donated the old love seat. Much easier than locating a proper dump, or inviting strangers into our house from craigslist. Shortly thereafter, we went out for food with Raging Texan and J00wish, and proceeded to Wii up a storm with MarioKart and Super Smash Brothers. Despite my disdain for pink, I always insist upon being Princess Peach when playing Mario Kart. I think it's my desire to flaunt the "girl power" thing. Or something.

Sunday I lounged on my big purple couch, nestled on it and leaned against our bookshelves. (I think IKEA has furnished 90% of our house.) It's amazing what a big comfy sofa does for homework productivity. I spent 6 hours doing homework and watching the following: Harold and Kumar go to Whitecastle, Van Wilder, and Just Friends. There is something about bad movies that really helps me get through homework, and I don't mind having Ryan Reynolds (who was in all three) filling up my television screen. After that, my boyfriend made a delicious Caesar salad, I worked out and went to bed.

Very pleasant, albeit not terribly exciting.



Who knew that my philosophy on life would come from Mr. Conductor at Shining Time Station?

Life is nothing if not absurd, absurdity is nothing if not humorous, and comedy is really fucking fucked now that we lost George Carlin.

Give Grandma hell for me, kay?


Things that suck about working in an office environment #21,004.

When making a beeline for the bathroom, after holding it in for hours in order to get several "urgent" tasks done, it is inevitable that someone will intercept you in the hall for one of two reasons: a) to send you back to your office to do another "urgent" task while your bladder slowly screams and you consider the social implications of wetting your chair or b) they want to talk to you about the cute things their baby has done since they were an egg waiting to be fertilized.

I do have an empty mug here.


How awkward would that be? For my coworkers to come in? I'd be branded with a yellow letter, P. I don't know if I want to be that guy. Or gal, rather.


Golly gee, ole buddy, ole pal

A problem has arisen. Between full-time classes, full-time working and the freakishly long commute, I seem to have forgotten to go beyond meeting my coworkers and actually find friends. This was effortless in the latter part of high school and early college days.

Is it just me, or does this routinely happen to every twenty-something who relocates to a new town after college? I find myself over eager whenever I run into someone remotely close to my own age. "OMG you like paperclips? I LUUUUFF PAPERCLIIIIIPS!!!!!!" I don't intend to be that slightly off-putting overeager type, but here I am. Have I become some kind of hovering creep, or are the folks here less willing to meet new people? Is it the Los Angeles attitude, or is it my own doing? Maybe it's just my sheer lack of time.

Thank goodness my boo (best friend of ten years), is coming out for a visit over the 4th of July weekend.

Hopefully, once school comes to an end, I can start getting out an doing things. An improv comedy class is on my to-do list, and with the Groundlings freakishly close to my home, I may as well audition for their basic class. I think film festivals will be move #2.


Paper Mario: First Impressions

First of all, I want to say that I am a woman who considers herself to be a bit of a videogame geek. I clung to my Game Boy as a little girl, I envied everyone's Segas, Ataris, and Nintendos, and I cried for hours when Aeris died. I become conflicted when it comes to my thoughts on feminism and gaming, and I'm sure they'll come up soon enough, but I essentially want you to know that I love losing myself in this stuff. It's one of my favorite laid back things to do (ditto to hitting up the beach). I get a bit annoyed when people act like it's a novelty, and I also hate it when people call me a n00b and give me crap for not knowing that all your base are belong to us. Or insert some other random game reference here. Seriously, you'd think I, like, zoned a hoard of Lvl 55 Orcs and then slapped a kitten huffer while pissing on their precious Penny Arcade. Of which I am a fan, btw. And Sluggy. Old Sluggy. I also want to clarify that I'm not one of the gamer girls that closes herself off from society, hates pop culture and has a million pictures of pixies on her myspace page. I have dated plenty, I love me some Jimmy Choos, and unlike some geeks, I have seen the light of day. You also won't see me at ComicCon. No offense.

Anyway, back to Paper Mario.

First thoughts:

The intro is annoyingly long. I can't decide if I love or hate the mustache humor. In some ways, I feel over it, in other ways I'm eating it up because it feels lovely and familiar. Like your mom. (See what I did there?)

It stays dull until you can flip into 3D. The awesomeness commences.

The star power is awesomer than awesomeness squared. Wow. I love breaking stuff in games. Always fun. In addition, Mario occasionally finds a band of little Marios - he has an ass-kicking posse!

The talking parts are my least favorite. Some of the jokes are cute, but they aren't particularly clever, we've heard most of it before.

Even if you think you hate it, stick with it until you meet the ubergeek and his virtual dating computer program.

More to come...unless, like most bloggers, I promise you something, you get excited, and then I never follow up on it. It's like a cock tease, but sadder and there aren't any tassels.


The end must be nigh...

I wrote five whole pages on the aforementioned infographic of Mr. Burt Reynolds and his Mr. Awesome Mustache. And I even had the balls to turn it in.

'Stache this

Here's the thing: I've taken what feels like eleventy billion undergrad classes. I am so beyond sick of them. Every assignment is tedious and I stare blankly at my computer, willing the words to just plop onto the page themselves.

So now, here's an infographic I just created for my Visual Communication Class. Time to write a few pages of analysis on this sucker. Oh yeah...I take my learnin' real seriously.