The Nic Cave

It’s a nice spot with microphones and laptops and pianos and guitars and melodies that go on for hours and hours. Whenever my friends are texting/calling/IMing me asking me where the heck I am and why I’m not out and about galavanting with them, it’s more than likely because I’ve tucked myself into the world known as my happy place.

I don’t think it’s difficult to realize that I am a lover of new people, new places and new experiences but every now and again it’s an absolute blessing to get a night to myself where I can do whatever the heck it is I want whether that’s playing video games, painting my nails, making with zee music or just lounging in bed all evening. So… while several lovely people were curious enough to send me inquiries in regards to my whereabouts, I was at home doing this:

And learning new songs on the piano. AND replaying the slightly older school Kingdom Hearts II.

TOMORROW, I galavant. But as for now… a sublime way to spend a Thursday night if you ask me.

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Did I Stutter?

Date night with the wife. I haven’t gone to the cinema in a while so we went to see “The King’s Speech” and I’ve got to say the film was done superbly well. The acting, the sets, the costuming, the styling—everything was practically perfection. I’m far too tired to get into anything too detailed though I will say I highly recommend watching it.

I was supposed to go the gym after the movie but since Krys didn’t have her work out gear and I didn’t feel like saying goodnight just yet we decided to hit the bar next door to the theatre. I know I live in the valley, but I have to say, the guys that I meet whenever I hang out in my “hood” are kind of weird and more than just a bit douchey. I swear, the valley is like a larger Jersey shore. Tight shirts, beer guts and bad pick-up lines.

And now I’ve got to hit the hay. I skipped the gym for 2 days and I feel awful about it, though I guess it’s good to give myself a break every now and again. I’m going to 24-Hour at the butt-crack of dawn to make up for last night’s shenanigans (drinks with Johnny THEN drinks with the wife) and tonight’s round of Jamesons.

Night night blogging world. <3

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Right as Rain

I usually love rainy days—curled up in a blanket, a good book, raindrops on the windowsill—it can be heaven.

But when I have to be driving around the city all day with phone conferences all morning, a meeting in the afternoon then office work for the rest of the day, I’d much rather have a bright sunny day to greet me than the gloom & doom I woke up to. It also doesn’t help that I feel extraordinarily tired whenever it rains. I can always tell when the rain is coming because I’m unusually sleepy and lethargic and this morning was no exception.

I was, however, quite happy to find my favorite cereal in the pantry. I think it’s the first time in a long while that I had a real breakfast (I usually just eat a banana or a cereal bar as I’m running out of the door). Thankfully, my morning calls allowed me to actually be home in the AM. There really is always a silver lining, haha. Oh and if you’re curious, this is my favorite cereal (yes, I take pictures of everything):

Honey Graham Oh’s with soy milk is pretty much the best thing ever. If I’m ever a house guest and you have this in your kitchen, I’ll love you long, long time. Seriously. You’ll have a best friend FO LYFE. [It’s gotta be obvious by now that you can you buy my love with the right kind of food.]

And now to try to convince my boss-dog, crazy-critter-friend, Johnny to come have dinner and drinks with me. I don’t think it should be all that hard.

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Emails & Nanos & Covers, Oh My!

I’m trying to take a stab at my inbox today. I’ve been so inundated with work related emails lately that I haven’t had much time to reply back to my awesome friends and family who like me enough to send me personal notes. No exaggeration, I have 70+ emails I need to reply back to… some dating back to December. If you’re reading this, I promise I’m not ignoring you. I just think you each deserve a well-thought out response since you took the time in the first place to send me nice & looong emails. Sorry, loves. I’m determined to empty my inbox this week. [Hint: gChat me or send me quick little lines. Those I can reply to in a smart minute. ♥]

Also reorganizing my iTunes—another thing I’ve planned on doing for months. BUT I need to get it done since my new Nano arrived today. Yay! No more dropping my phone at the gym or on hikes. If you have any new music for me, send it my way. My cousin actually sent me a massive list of new music so I’m working on going through that though I always appreciate recommendations.

Another new goal: I was listening to Adele’s new album in the shower the other day and with every song that played all I kept thinking to myself was, I can totally play this on the guitar or I NEED to learn this on the piano. Her album is so amazing. I’ve always had a thing for guys who are musically inclined—seriously play me a song on the guitar or sing me a ditty and I SWOON inside [don’t let my casual demeanor fool you]—so if I swung that way I would totally lez out for this London songstress. My point: I’m thinking of learning every song off of her 21 album. Who wants to make music with me?! I’ll pay you in sugar plum kisses, marshmallowy hugs and melodies that make you quiver, lol.

More new goals. Who knew I’d make 2011 a year for them? So far I’ve done pretty darn well with every single one.

So much for being a good girl last night. After 30 minutes with Saramago, I was persuaded to hit up Mad Bull’s again with Ms. Abs and the birthday girl Sara. Apart from an idiotic [& slightly racist] drunkard and some mighty thirsty boys, good times all around were had. But no drinking tonight! Gym, gym, gym, gym, gym. [If I say it enough times, it’ll come true.]

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I miss my drinking buddies.

Since I moved back to Cali, my tolerance has slowly deteriorated. I guess that’s KIND of good thing. It definitely makes the nights less expensive and should I ever let a guy buy me a drink… at least I’m a cheap date, right? I can definitely still outdrink any skinny minny, size 2 in Hollywood and whatever douche who’s at her side, BUT it’s a certainty: I can’t hold my liquor as well as I did in NY or SD.

Speaking of which… I wonder who could outdrink who: my friends that reside on the east coast or those I now share an ocean with. I can only imagine the mischief I’d get into should my NY and San Diego friends ever congregate in one city. There have been mixings of course, but never an all out crazed night of throwing back whiskey and g&t’s. I think I need to make that happen.

Point of this post: I’m officially looking for boozing buddies. And hiking buddies. And willing-to-attend-gallery-openings buddies. Lol. Basically what I need to do is stop going out of town and actually meet people in the city where I purportedly come from. It’s insane that I grew up here and aside from my awesome work friends, extremely large family and the random university friends who happen to live in LA, I don’t really know very many people. I’m so used to picking up the phone and calling Jess, or Anna, or Jesper, or Alex, etc., etc. and convincing them to go grab a drink with me on a random Tuesday night.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t want to go back to my partying ways in NY (I admit I was kind of out of control for a few months there), but it would be nice to not be so responsible all the time. I think it’s about time I find some irresponsible friends to play with in El Yay.

I’m taking to the streets. Drink up, ya bums.

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Oafish Laughter

I tend to avoid hearing recordings of myself speak.

In my head, I imagine sounding polished, my voice just the right amount of smoothness & depth, with a bit of elegance to my accent. In reality, my voice is much higher pitched than I’d prefer [it reaches the point of shrill at times] & every so often that old valley accent that I attempted to correct long ago is resurrected without my knowledge [usually at high points of excitement].

What I dread to hear all the more are recordings of my laughter. Some of my friends, in their polite fashion, have told me that my laughter is delightful and infectious [probably because they’re laughing AT me] but let’s be honest: I guffaw. I cackle. When I laugh, it’s usually so hard that my entire body is affected by it: head back, shoulder’s shaking, foot stomping the ground and hands clapping. Lord, I must look like a fool when I laugh. An oaf, so to speak.

Case in point: a video my cousins and I made one day after the gym when we were in a goofy sort of mood [disclaimer: I look like an absolute idiot for 99.9% of this vid but I’m totally ok with that]—

Despite this known fact, I can’t help but laugh all the time [much to the dismay of the people around me]. Laughing is simply one of my favorite things to do—especially when I laugh at myself. In fact, I need to be able to! I fall a lot and sometimes catch myself saying the most idiotic things. If I took myself too seriously, I would have an extremely low sense of self [I don’t].

So, shrill voice and oafish laughter aside, I kind of like myself a whole lot. Which is a good thing…

I think.

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Tweets, Signs & Ironies

I was taking a nap earlier today—my gulay, I love naps—& woke up to this tweet from my cousin:

@darlingrose lmao @enanic RT @Sexstrology: #Virgo’s are melodramatic hypochondriacs. When they get sick OMG the world is ending.

I nearly fell off the couch laughing because I had just gone through the following conversation in my head:

*groannn* Ughhh, my eye hurts. My head hurts… *uggghh* my body hurts. *sob sob* Why me???

[picks up cellphone] Hmm… I wonder who tweeted me?


Which then, of course, became really loud laughter causing my aunt who was sitting near me to think I was slightly deranged. It was just what I needed to stop feeling sorry myself.

I really am sick though.

I’ve spent the better part of the last two days trying to sleep away whatever weird flu I caught that fell on top of me like a purple hippo out of the sky [I know that’s a weird analogy, but it’s what popped in my head]. But in all seriousness, it came from out of nowhere and I just want it to go away. If you know me at all, you know I hate going to the doctor and avoid those visits like the plague.

Ironic, huh? But wait… or is it?

End Tangent.

Anyway, I’m finally going. My eye feels like it’s about to pop out of my skull. Of course it has to be the black eye that is causing me all this hassle. I’m pretty sure my mom has now convinced herself that it is a direct result of the mugging and is harassing me on the daily to go to the doctor along with my aunt, and friends and other family members. But no complaints! It’s nice to be that loved, lol…

On another tangent, I am still a Virgo.

Everyone is in a hooplah about their “new sign” because of Ophiuchus, the 13th zodiac, but PEOPLE: that’s actually nothing new. Funny, I was having this conversation with my friend Johnny a few weeks ago about astrology and he was telling me that the Western zodiac has always been wrong because they follow tropical seasons, unlike the sidereal zodiac [or I guess Eastern zodiac] which follows the constellations. And no, it’s not like he’s super smart [well he is, just not about this], his girl from Thailand who follows the sidereal zodiac told him all about it. Well, I don’t think either is wrong and neither does Susan Miller, so take that naysayers. You negative nancys probably don’t put too much weight in astrology anyway. [Not that I do either, but they are mighty fun to read and if the above tweet shows anything, can sometimes hit the nail right on its head.]

If you don’t believe me, read this article from CNN which explains it far better than I do: No, your zodiac sign hasn’t changed.

That’s my lesson for the day. Don’t believe everything you read, unless you read it here [jk].

Goodnight, lovelies. See you when the sun rises.

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une belle chanson

La complainte de la butte de Cora Vaucaire

En haut de la rue St-Vincent
Un poète et une inconnue
S’aimèrent l’espace d’un instant
Mais il ne l’a jamais revue

Cette chanson il composa
Espérant que son inconnue
Un matin d’printemps l’entendra
Quelque part au coin d’une rue

La lune trop blême
Pose un diadème
Sur tes cheveux roux
La lune trop rousse
De gloire éclabousse
Ton jupon plein d’trous

La lune trop pâle
Caresse l’opale
De tes yeux blasés
Princesse de la rue
Soit la bienvenue
Dans mon cœur blessé

Les escaliers de la butte sont durs aux miséreux
Les ailes des moulins protègent les amoureux

Petite mendigote
Je sens ta menotte
Qui cherche ma main
Je sens ta poitrine
Et ta taille fine
J’oublie mon chagrin

Je sens sur tes lèvres
Une odeur de fièvre
De gosse mal nourri
Et sous ta caresse
Je sens une ivresse
Qui m’anéantit

Les escaliers de la butte sont durs aux miséreux
Les ailes des moulins protègent les amoureux

Mais voilà qu’il flotte
La lune se trotte
La princesse aussi
Sous le ciel sans lune
Je pleure à la brune
Mon rêve évanoui




The Sad Song of the Hill by Cora Vaucaire

At the top of St. Vincent Street
A poet and an unknown
Fell in love for a moment
But he never saw her again

This song he composed
Hoping that his unknown
Will one spring morning hear it
Somewhere around a street corner

The moon too pallid
Laid a crown
Upon your red hair
The moon too red
Splashes glory
Upon your tattered dress

The moon too pale
Caresses the opals
Of your jaded eyes
Princess of the street
Be welcomed
In my wounded heart

The steps of the hill are hard upon the wretched
The wings of the mills protect the lovers

Small beggar
I feel your tiny hand
Which seeks out mine
I feel your breast
And your delicate waist
Forgetting my sorrow

I smell upon your lips
The feverish smell
Of a malnourished child
And beneath your caress
I feel an intoxication
Which destroys me

The steps of the hill are hard upon the wretched
The wings of the mills protect the lovers

But look now, it’s raining
The moon drifts
And so does the princess
Beneath the moonless sky
I cry at dusk
For my vanishing dream