Just a Lazy Saturday

I really didn't need another "LA = Hell" book, but here I am waist deep in "I'm Losing You," and only half a box of Ritz Crackers and two cups of coffee eased the pain of chore whores, frequent fisting and pedophilia. Why am I reading it just when I'm going off antidepressants? And why does it feel so dated? (Snapple, Victoria Principal for chrissake---I'm lucky I even remember her). It's definitely no Day of the Locust---yet still it was somehow befitting by comatose state on the couch today. It's the kind of day when I cannot bear music or looking in the mirror, so bring on the Babylon.

Award-winning Books

Milan has only two award-winning books. The rest are random gifts and tomes I picked up at the thrift store down the street from Dr S.' office. They are 29 cents each. Does he have a realistic shot at future brilliance if all he reads was published by random houses I have never heard of? And will I go to hell if I don't use 7th Generation dish soap?

The Fat Lady Sings

The time has come. After getting into an altercation with my Harley-driving, noise-loving lowlife neighbor across the street, during which I called her a bitch and she called me a fat cow, Dr. S. has finally agreed to allow me to come off the R. I'd rather be called a vicious cunt or an ugly whore, but fat cow had me curled up on the sofa sobbing for three hours. So now, my task at hand is devising ways to prevent me from becoming a raving lunatic as the soft cushioning of the drug is being peeled away, minute by agonizing minute. When you first take R., after a very short time, you feel like the most normal, happy person in the whole world. You sleep at night and wake up in the morning thinking of coffee instead of Sylvia Plath vs. Hemingway ways to go. You can take care of your baby without wishing it were dead. You can have friends and conversations and make plans that don't involve knives. Then, after a few month of bliss, you notice that---egad---you have gained thirty pounds, but you reckon being fat is superiors to being suicidal. Then the fat just stays and next thing you know you're a fat cow and that's that. The fat lady sings.

Angry Russians

After almost a week of avoiding I. we finally made up, and he even reluctantly agreed that on overcast days the colors of spring flowers were quite nice in California. Good thing we have so many overcast days.

Can you say Uhgwah?

I wonder if this is a national phenomenon or just limited to the greater Silver Lake/Echo Park/Eagle Rock area: parents teaching their toddlers to say "agua" instead of water. I had to ask and was told it's cause it's just easier to say than water. And I thought "wadder" was already pretty easy to say---say as opposed to the more proper British "waTer," but I was wrong (of course, I'm always wrong). But why stop there? Isn't pan easier than bread? And so forth?

Kröd Mändoon

There are certain moviegoing (and otherwise: headbangers) people who think a word (film, project, whatever) is funny as söön as you put two döts over it. What's up with that?

Cocaine Cowboy

Nothing like hanging out with an internationally lauded swearing, Cocaine Cowboy painting, anecdote-wielding (David Bowie, David Hockney, Joe Strummer, the Queen of England) British artist---who just happens to be your neighbour---to perk up. I haven't had so much fun in ages. And even though he's British, dinner was outstanding.

Codeine

Tylenol with Codeine isn't bad.

Wake Up and Smell the Folgers

Actually, I's constant negativity served as a mirror in which I saw reflected my own tendencies to separate myself from my environment and the people in it. If he is my "sangha", I can only remain de-pressed and dis-passionate. It's no good. Why take smiley pills when all day you're mind is fed a steady diet of shitty complaints? I will de-tox my mind and embrace the US of A wholeheartedly.

From Answers.com: Ugly American is an epithet used to refer to perceptions of loud, arrogant, demeaning, thoughtless and ethnocentric behavior of American citizens mainly abroad, but also at home. Although the term is usually associated with or applied to travellers and tourists, it also applies to US corporate businesses in the international arena.

Anti-American

I. and I "broke up" over coffee last Friday afternoon and I went to Elysian Park playground by myself. I couldn't take the anti-American sentiment anymore, of a magnitude I hadn't encountered since I dated a G.I. when I was 16 and was called an "ami slut" by the local townsfolk who were sick of their prettiest girls running off to California with surfer dudes who had enrolled in the military to get college money. (and they didn't like those Pershings much, I guess). BUT seriously, I can stomach only so much of:

Americans are dumb.
Every other American is an asshole.
Americans eat crap.
You can only buy cheap shit here.
There is no architecture.
LA is ugly.
American bands are all influenced by country.
American film sucks.
There are no good American artists.
American schools suck.
There is no American fashion unless it's rap culture.
Americans are superficial.

Need I go on?

I've had it. Go back to your euro techno and arrogant architect fucks and shoveling snow.

Snuggies

Why do hipsters think it's cute and "ironic" to like the Snuggie? Now there are even Snuggie pub crawls. And this morning, I got one of my "cool" "urban" email alerts that started: "In the beginning, there was fire. Then came the wheel, the Internet and most recently, the Snuggie." Snuggies suck. But the free reading light you get when you order one, now that's a different story!