That ain't nothin but my hammer suckin wind, lord, lord

So as you may have noticed, THP has been lagging/slightly sucking for a while. The demands of a final year of my MFA along with having my stokes in many extracurricular fires makes it pretty hard to even think about blogging. I'm saving us both some trouble (me writing tepid stuff, and you having to read it) and closing up shop over here.

Plus, it just wasn't the same without Pointer. Maybe one of us will start it up again in the future.

Anyway, thanks for reading and best to you all.

- Dodo Bird

Holy Jebus!

The heatwave is worse than projected. I have a head-cold that's so bad I can feel the pressure in the nerves of my teeth. I have eaten so many popsicles I'm on corn syrup overload. Look out for the waaambulance.

Oh, the humanity

The past few weeks have had morning overcast, highs in the 60s and 70s. It was sweater time (at night). Suddenly summer decided to give us a final farewell in the form of making us want to die. At least I still have a ton of popsicles in the freezer...

LA Breakdown

I thought this was a pretty interesting breakdown of LA's racial geography. Red is white, blue is black, green is Asian, orange is Latino, gray is other, and each dot is 25 people.

Apparently no one lives downtown at all. Good to know.

This just about sums it up...

Overheard in Costco

Recently while in Orange County I had to go to a Costco to purchase some items (masochism). I was in the disposable cup/plate/etc area when two women entered the aisle, one in her late 50s and the other in her late 40s. They were trying to find some cups for something. Real conversation, verbatim:

50s lady: Hmm, what about these?
[50s lady lifts a sleeve of cups into the air for 40s lady to observe from down the aisle]
40s lady: No those are gay.

There's something you gotta understand about Ramadan -- all fasters think about is food. F-O-O-D. All day long. "What am I going to eat tonight at 7:13PM?" When something sounds like a good idea, you cling to it for dear life. Like this concoction yesterday: pasta with garlic, fake bacon, peas, smoked cheese, and a fried egg. It was actually alright, somehow. Probably because I hadn't eaten in 14 hours.

This Ramadan has been pretty odd, probably because of the rampant Muslim-bashing, the railing about a Muslim community center, and the potential hours-long Quran burning fest -- all discussed non-stop this month it seems. The month Muslims are trying to be especially peaceful and positive. I don't think I've ever seen so much blatant bigotry in the media and from political and news talking heads in the US...ever. Not that people aren't blatant talking-head bigots in this country, don't even get me started. But I'm talking consistency here. A person can say that a "Mosque" near Ground Zero is like putting a Nazi center near Auschwitz and no one really seems to bat an eyelash. At least not a serious eyelash. Maybe a few little ones. You get what I'm saying (hopefully).

Do the crazy Westboro Baptist Church group that pickets soldier funerals because they think their deaths are a sign from God about the US being slightly (though not legally) accepting of gay people represent all Baptists? Should no Baptists have cemeteries where soldiers are buried? That's the basic logic I've been seeing. And then our president seems too scared to seriously dispute all this, because apparently an ignorant 20% of the nation thinks he is a Muslim (and that's bad) and any real support for the community center will probably make that percentage rise (and that's bad). He can't seem to feel comfortable doing what Bush did in saying this is a mostly peaceful religion. Nine years after 9/11, and people seem to be more intolerant than ever. I can't think of a worse time, when 20 million people are affected by a natural disaster in a Muslim country and so few people are focusing on their need. 20 million.

Today, for the first time since 2008 (and probably the last time ever in my life) I thought "Thank God Sarah Palin said something." It was all crickets from the right until ol' S.P. got on her soap box and spoke out against the Quran burning. I was thankful, because it needed to be said from someone in that camp, and seeing as Palin seems to be living off of crazy juice ("Dr. Laura: don't retreat...reload!") it was a surprise.

Anyway, I hope things calm down in the coming weeks and no holy books of any religion are burned by any crazies, and we all just take a breath together and try to maybe do more things that way.

Septemberfest

Ramadan '10 has been in full swing for a few weeks now. Besides fasting, my boyfriend and I also do not partake in the booze. This is mostly tough because we are avid beer lovers. Few things are better than a nice cold beer after a hot summer day.

Throughout the past three weeks we have in some ways accidentally and some ways not-so-accidentally acquired enough beer to take up a sizable fraction of our fridge in anticipation of Ramadan's end...



One more week baby!

The ol' alma mater

The recent release of the latest US News & World Report ranking of colleges has apparently caused some excitement for USC students, as it is the first time USC has outranked UCLA in the history of the report (by one rung). The LA Times article on this fact has interviews with crowing USC students and crestfallen UCLA students. Honestly, people who care that much about a ranking system and a rivalry they think is worth losing an eye over should maybe try focusing on more important things like, say...academia.

Case in point: I was walking through USC on Friday for a meeting when I beheld a young USC student leading a group of prospective students on a campus tour. They paused in front of the library and the tour guide began to explain the huge array of graduate programs at USC, and that the graduate students undertook extensive research projects to earn their degree. Then this happened:

Guidette: Does anybody know what research is?
Prospective students: [crickets]
Guidette: I didn't know what research was either when I first started here!

Oh...my Lord. Is it really possible that sixteen and seventeen-year-olds who believe they are accomplished enough to get into a school tied-ranked 24th in the nation when they don't know what research is, much less done a little of their own?? No concept of research, at all. Not read about it, know about it in any capacity. Nothing from science class, social studies. Nothin. What's worse, the guide is telling them that it's okay not to know anything about research, because she didn't either! I think we have more to worry about than how football is going to do this year people.

Not a good sign

I had to call California's unemployment offices because I accidentally effed something up in my reapplication. The young woman on the other line was helpful, yet in the end said that she wasn't sure what was going to happen -- I had some letters coming to me that would hopefully explain things.

I started to quietly laugh at myself for my mistake -- so small, but causing so much busy work for me to fix .

Dodo: [quiet laughter]
Sparkle [calmly] (yes, that was her name): ....Are you crying?
Dodo: No! I'm just laughing at myself for my idiocy!!

Thinking back on this moderately awkward interaction I realized that the sound of her voice revealed that a person crying on the other end of the line was not uncommon, I might even venture to say she was ready for it.....oh Lord, California. We need to get it together.

A priest walks into a bar

So my brother got married and stuff. My sisters and I were in the wedding. It was 110 degrees outside because it was August and Phoenix, and when/where else would one get married? In any event, it was successful and everyone looked nice and had a great time. A child cried throughout the ceremony, the priest likened a scripture read by the bride's godmother to a shampoo commercial from the 70s. You know, a typical wedding.

At the reception I get up to the bar and notice that domestic beers are free. I order a Fat Tire, as that is a domestic beer. The bartender explains it isn't a domestic beer, which makes me think he doesn't drink beer (my boyfriend later explains it is a craft beer, so the bartender probably thinks I don't drink beer). Miffed after hearing Fat Tire is forbidden and not wanting to drink a Budweiser, I order a glass of red. While the bartender is pouring I swing around to take in the crowd and find the priest a few feet behind me, glass of Michelob AmberBock in hand (the least offensive of the domestic options).

Dodo: So, you got the Michelob?
Priest: Yup.
Dodo: I can't believe we can't order Fat Tire!
Priest: Yeah...I was really hoping for a glass of Stella.

For real

On the way back from my brother's wedding in Phoenix, a highlight from the 6 hour drive:

While beginning to pass a mac-truck, I notice a large neon green poster tacked to the back left of the truck. The sign reads: LADIES, it is my birthday. FLASH ME! :)

As my car eases up to the front of the truck, I see a be-hatted, mustachioed truck driver leaning forward in his seat, looking in his side mirror with great anticipation...

No one's seemed to notice

The land of plenty!

My landlord planted a large, two-plot vegetable garden out front for himself and his five tenants. When my bf and I saw him last, he was telling us we needed to harvest vegetables more frequently -- look at these cucumbers that went bad on the vine! We go out the next day to pick veggies, and discover these monstrosities (I used my cat for perspective):

Those would be some giant-ass zucchini. We talked about making stuff with them, but in the end I gave them to my far more cooking-savvy neighbors who will use one as a table decoration and do something crazy with the other one. Other than non-monster zucchini, we're enjoying tomatoes, eggplant, green/white/purple beans, cucumber, and have been eying the watermelon and corn. California summer ain't so bad.

Thanks be to the gods

Back in April I entered an intersection near CalArts to make a left .48 seconds after the light turned red. In Southern California they place cameras on a lot of major intersections to take photos and video of people like me so they can send them a $500 ticket in the mail two weeks later. Seeing as I am not making enough monthly income to even go beyond rent and car payments, this was an issue. I went to court and talked to the judge:

Dodo: "I ain't got no skrillz"
Judge Reinhold: "Ok, you can do community service."
Dodo: "...o...k?"

While waiting in line for the clerk after my little discussion with the judge I start to get concerned. What the hell did I just sign up for? I struck up conversation with a girl who had done community service in the past. She started out picking up trash on the side of the freeway until she asked a judge to get transferred to the pound, thinking she'd be able to just play with puppies and kittens all day. She told me about the harrowing government-run pound experience, which included witnessing the decapitation of a captured mountain lion that had ventured into a residential area. All I'm thinking is "holy shit" at this point. I get through the line and tell the lady I don't live in Santa Clarita -- I live in Atwater Village. I need something close to where I live! I don't want to pick up trash! What are my options??

I'm giving 56 hours of my life to Out of the Closet, a gay friendly non-profit/funky thrift store that is about a mile from my house. Everyone there is nice. I am counting my blessings.

The Name of the Game is Lightworks

I have poetry submission marathon days from time to time, and I always feel amazing afterward, "Now someone is going to read my work and love it, and I'll get another great publication name to put in my poet bio. It'll be GREAT!"

When it comes to rejections, I just try to remember the intelligence of the salty bard: "Rejections are no hazard; they are better than gold. Just think what type of miserable career you would be today if all your works had been accepted."

Unfortunately, when you submit work to a bunch of places at the same time, you get rejections in clumps. Three rejections in one day definitely stings. Ouch.

OOF

After taking its time, summer is upon us.

Stay Classy, California

Apparently for the past 30 years there has been a mooning ritual that takes place beyond the Orange Curtain, in Laguna Niguel. Some drunk dared another drunk to moon the passing train outside the saloon, and drunk #2 took drunk #1 up on the offer. Thirty years later and 10,000 people do it every year.

I'll admit, it kind of warms my heart a little that people in Orange County actually loosen up a bit and show some butt cheeks to strangers. I guess I'm just sad I'm not there, and that I found out about this today via an international news source.

I agree with BBC -- the best part of the Mooning Amtrak site is in the FAQ:

Q: Can I decorate my butt?
A: Yes, that's O.K.

Well, I'm off to Mexico for the long weekend. Wish me luck as I try to keep my boyfriend from blowing off his small appendages with bottle-rockets.

Fancy Pants

I somehow was recommended by an acquaintance to become a secret shopper for restaurants in my area. A free meal for me and the boyf, and a bit of money for my time eating and writing about it. I am pretty excited about this, especially with my part time job only really covering about 80% of my monthly expenses and all (though for which I am incredibly grateful).

I was discussing this new endeavor with my mom on the phone. She seemed into it too:

Mom: How exciting!
Dodo: I know! And they even do hotels too. Maybe I'll get to stay in a hotel for free!
Mom: I don't know if you can do that -- you can't just blow into a fancy hotel and blend in. You have to look nice.
Dodo: I can look fancy!.......why are you laughing.

World Cupping

This is my favorite photo from the World Cup I've seen, especially because the caption does not address the very obvious fact that the dude in the background is double-handedly protecting his Charlie Browns.


I've gone to a bar at 7AM to watch a game and drink a beer (and nick the pretty goblet the beer was served in), and just returned from an Argentine's house where we watched the Mexico/Argentina game and screamed at the TV for 2 hours.

It's been a good season for the ol' Dodo so far.

Just call me the one with short hair who's moderately intelligent

Of the main stream Mexican hot sauces out there, Cholula hot sauce is by far the most expensive. You can get a giant bottle of Tapatío (literally, it's giant) for about $2, but a small bottle of Cholula can be as much as $3. It's nuts. I like Cholula, and always chalked up the huge price difference to the fact that Cholula is superior, and probably doesn't have the joint-hardening preservatives that keeps Tapatío so tastey and the same color for 6 months without refrigeration.

Well, I got a wiiiild hair this weekend and decided to do some good ol' fashion research. You'd think that if Cholula truly used better ingredients and kept the preservatives out of their hot sauce, we'd be hearing about it. Tabasco ages their hot sauce in wooden casks for godsakes. What the hell is that extra $1-2 about, Cholula??

Then bingo: my boyfriend found it. It's the little wooden cap they put on the top. That's why it's so damn expensive -- everyone else just uses plastic.

I clearly have no taste, and base everything I think is more desirable on its price. I might as well go watch "Sex and the City 2" and have sad epiphanies about myself.

Let's stay together

I recently got the bright idea of taking my boyfriend to a hot spring I had heard about. After parking and barely embarking on what would be (unbeknownst to us) an longish hike, this chubby 30something Russian guy comes up and asks us how much water we have. Apparently it isn't enough, so he sends me back to his car to grab a few extra water bottles. We end up hiking down with him, and he explains how he is a hot spring fiend. He was pretty jolly, cracking jokes, picking up trash along the way. When we got down to the hot springs he was passing out beers to friends and strangers alike.

There were a group of teenagers there when we arrived. As soon as those kids left everyone got naked. Russian Guy didn't for some reason -- I think our presence might have shamed him into keeping his suit on, because he seemed excited about disrobing when we talked about it along the hike.

So my boyfriend and I sat in hot springs, fully bathingsuited and consistently met with, "first time at the springs?" Yup. First time. No, you will not be seeing my ta-tas.

We exchanged information with Russian Guy, as he knows about a bunch of awesome springs around etc, thought we might want to go along. As we neared our apartment 8 hours later (versus the 4 hours I had anticipated the excursion to take) my boyfriend delicately brought up a likely truth:

bf: Russian Guy was nice
dodo: yeah, he was a cool
bf: you know, the next time you see him...you'll see him naked.
dodo: I guess I will...
bf: you're going to see his penis
dodo: ...yup
bf: his ball sack
dodo: OK!!

shorty's running wild smokin sess drinkin beer

My little sister turned 21 on Tuesday and lives in LA. I decided I should take her on a pub crawl -- I have three pretty great bars within walking distance from my house, so that seemed like the best way to spend the evening after the usual nice dinner and gift giving.

It actually worked out remarkably well. We got her shots, cool crazy drinks, drunked her up. She spent a majority of her time in the third bar barfing. She threw up on the street outside my apartment.

Now she's a woman.

I don't know how the river got so wide

Whoa whoa. Ok, so many things. First of all, the Lakers won Game 7 last night. If you care/are excited about this, you should click here.

Ok. Second order of business. My workstudy boss was incredibly nice and gave me a little job (and a little raise) for the summer. Three days a week, takes care of my rent and car insurance. Still have days to go to the beach during the week, etc. It's nice. But something you should understand about CalArts is that the architecture of the main building is this horrible, labyrinthine, windowless bunker. I still get lost in that place, because every floor is identical (identical in that it's a maze with no sunlight). Being there during the summer is downright creepy. The usual places where people sit and practice their lines for a performance by themselves (or as my friend and I like to call it: schizo breezeway) is empty. The dancers aren't doing silly combination practice next to the gamalan studio. Everyone is gone. Obviously, this is obvious, as it's summer break. But along with the layout of this building, it's completely unearthly. My coworker put it best: "At certain corners of the building I expect to see blood to come gushing down the hallway." As long as I don't see creepy twins running around anywhere, I'll hopefully survive the summer.

Crownin'

Last Night

I woke up in the middle of the night to go pee. I come back to bed and my boyfriend says something to me:

Boyfriend: [muffled somethinoranother]
Dodo: Did you say I was farting???
Boyfriend: I said, Happy Birthday!

I turn 25 today. My mom's making homemade ice cream cake and praline to go on top. Woop.

Oz-Stravaganza!

L. Frank Baum, the author of the book "The Wizard of Oz," was born in a town called Chittenango, just about 10 miles away from where my mom lives. I was driving through the town the other day and saw a sign saying "Breakfast with the munchkins Sunday 9AM." After passing through more of Chittenango, I came to realize that there was something called Oz-stravaganza going on that weekend -- a yearly celebration of the Wizard of Oz where locals and non-local Oz nerdos can gather, buy Wizard of Oz crap, dress up like the characters, interact with little people, etc.

So, apparently, a freak-tornado blew through Chittenango yesterday and felled trees, killed the power. Oz-stravaganza had to shut down. You'd think all O-S goers would be bummed about this, but they probably were just stoked to be that close to a tornado while dressed as Dorothy.

Just a day at the fair

One of my friends is pregnant, and we were talking about the strange phenomenon of pregnant women having an incredibly acute sense of smell. She was telling me how her husband and daughter have very distinct smells for her, to the point where she tells her husband to leave the room because he stinks. He eventually talked to her about this:

Husband: You know, it really hurts my feelings when you tell me I stink.
Wife: Well you do!
Husband: What do I smell like??
Wife: Honestly, corndogs.

Becoming-animal

Sorry I've been MIA people -- my cat spilled a vase full of water on my computer and so it's been on the fritz lately. In any event, I went to NYC for about a week and hung out with all my buds there, and was able to grab a bite with our busy buddy Pointer last night! I think it's the first time we've seen each other in about two years, so it was great to catch up.

Other than our personal dramas, we discussed the issue I had with the cat-calling in New York. Ok, I understand, men are annoying blah blah. I get that bullshit in LA too, but there was one punk kid who decided to kiss at me (you know, like I was a dog) while I was on my way to dinner with Pointer. I just shook my head and tsked, but immediately afterward realized I missed a golden opportunity in which I could have barked maniacally at him as he passed -- only then maybe he would have come to understand that it was inappropriate for him to "xxx" at me. His inappropriate behavior would be met with mine. He wanted an animal, I would become one. Every time I mentioned this possibility to friends though, it was met with uncertainty/faces like I was a weirdo.

I decided this was an appropriate reaction to not only cat calls, but also to kids being mean to my friends (either the barking, or carrying a knife to scare the bejesus out of them and move on)...part of me thinks maybe I'm not cut out for The City.

Monster Mash

I haz no regretz

Last weekend I went with my boyfriend to pick up some Pakistani food at this place called the Silver Spoon in Irvine. They have something there called the Silver Bullet Burrito that has some good stuff put in a paratha and wrapped up like a burrito (for those of you who haven't experienced paratha, it's what would happen if a naan and an onion pancake had a baby...delicious). It was really good, but I wanted to try a breakfast burrito version so, behold:





My very late breakfast today -- scrambled eggs with tamarind and mint chutney sauces wrapped in an onion paratha. Pretty bomb. I want to try this again and maybe mix some curry and potatoes with the eggs. Yummzz.

Kitchell

If David Mitchell of "Peep Show" doesn't dress up as Elena Kagan for Halloween then he just isn't that damn funny.

A horse walks into a bar...

I never half step cause I'm not a half stepper

I spent the greater part of the last two days dealing with a heinous cold and recent developments in my identity theft -- ironically, it was only after getting a credit card that I found the thief had opened a checking account at the same bank in my name.

On the bright side, some birds started building a nest in my plant that hangs in a bucket outside my front door.




I discovered the nest when I saw a cat perched on the thin fence beneath the plant, looking at a bird perched in the plant. Then my cat watched the other cat watch the bird for about 2 hours. I watched this all take place and had my millionth cup of tea. Sometimes convalescing ain't so bad...

Hella Awk

This is probably the most awkward mainstream ad I've ever seen. Look at that kid's face. Look at it.


He's not even trying to be playful. Maybe that's his real grandma...

Oh My Land!

Hey Arizona, can we talk? Because seriously, I don't know what the fuck is going on with you these days. We used to be so close, me living in you for seventeen years and all. You always kind of had your problems, with Sheriff Joe Arpaio consistently getting reelected despite the fact he's a blatant racist who doesn't give arrested people their Miranda Rights in anything other than English and puts untried persons in tents in the middle of Arizona summer. And your incredibly high Mormon population. And all the really intense conservative people. I mean, you had your quirks. Ok. But right now? WTF. W...TF.

As many of you may know, about a week ago Arizona signed a "stringent" immigration bill into law. "Stringent" meaning that they're going to toughen up their borders even more, and allow not only police but citizens the right to demand papers from anyone they think might not be living in the state legally. Anyone without the appropriate papers is jailed, fined, and likely deported. The authorities will not be focusing their efforts on the illegal Russian immigrant, or French person of course. Chances of those people getting questioned is close to nothing. This is clearly targeted at Arizona's large Latin population -- the dark-skinned people.

When you didn't think it could get any more effed, part of the law denies teachers with "heavy" accents -- educators for whom English is a second language -- the opportunity to teach English courses. Ethnic Studies classes are also apparently 86'ed from now on. All this despite the fact Arizona's education system has specifically recruited native Spanish speakers for years to teach in the state.

Not surprisingly, people are freakin out. Obama tsk tsked the new law, and there's a call for an Arizona boycott -- no visiting or buying products from the state (apparently hearkening back to a boycott after Arizona denied making MLK Day a state holiday...remember when I talked about that? Full circle people). California has also denied Arizona events to be held in CA, and also will ban all energy imports from AZ.

I guess we'll all just wait and see how long this here law's gonna last. I wish I could boycott until shit gets in order, but my bro is getting married in Phoenix in August (a wedding/sweating). Partay.

Wut up doc

Neanderthalin'

The Meadows

Sorry I've been slightly MIA. A series of events have and are happening such as me working on a million things for school. Also (more interestingly) I went to Vegas with my boyfriend and family friends. I got to stay at the MGM Signature Hotel to boot.

I had never been to Vegas before, and I don't really know what I expected. It's pretty horrible. We would walk around and my friend would say very loudly near Touropeans, "Look Dodo! The Eiffel Tower! Now I never have to go to Paris! And the Statue of Liberty! Why would anyone go anywhere other than Vegas if they wanted to see a monument???" I don't think they got it. We would also make a game of who could spot the most hookers in an evening.

One of the bigger surprises was how many slot machines there are in casinos. They make up about 90-95% of casinos. Having had an awesome math teacher in high school who taught us probability through gambling figures, I suppose it's not all that surprising -- you're more likely to get ripped off by a slot machine than anything else in a casino. The existence of "high bidding" slot machines (machines that took no less than $50 or $100) made this fact especially silly. Of course, we found our favorite slot machine that made absolutely no sense, KITTY GLITTER. Behold:



Pretty majestic, huh? Let's take a closer look:

That would be a cat dish full of diamonds. Somehow the Kitty Glitter machine wasn't all that popular.

Needless to say, if you go to Vegas with the right people, it is quite enjoyable. I may go back someday and actually gamble a little.

I ain't a wrap!

I recently realized that my boyfriend and I, completely independent of one another, have been measuring the value of something by how many burritos we could purchase with the same amount of money. We're talking taco stand burritos -- so $4-5. That t-shirt? Five burritos. While working at the pizza place I was earning about two burritos an hour.

This is love, people.

Posssuuuuum

There was a possum in my garage this morning. I've decided that they're moderately cute when they're terrified.

Emu Schmemu

I had to go to San Diego and, while I was there, (and actually pretty far away from San Diego proper) I found a cluster of emu and ostrich farms. Near these farms were a bunch of stands selling local honey and fruits, as well as ostrich and emu eggs. I was intrigued, and figured if the eggs were less than $40 I'd just get one. Full ostrich eggs were about $25, and emu eggs about $20. The emu eggs were also this crazy blue/green color and looked more like an avocado than something a giant bird would lay.

So I decided to preserve my emu egg, cleaning it and cooking the inside. My uncle mentioned it would be cool to fry one giant egg, and, I'll admit, I was really tempted to do that. But, I'm a nerd, so I awkwardly got the egg out of the shell with a straw, sometimes the stuff going up the straw and into my mouth and me being disgusted and pulling the straw out of my mouth and it going everywhere in the kitchen. 30 minutes later, I had a scramble going.


That's ALL ONE EGG. I was going to keep the shell for myself, but my mentor at CalArts actually wrote a book of poems inspired by the color blue and apparently people give her cool blue shit all the time. So, you know, had to give it up.


I took a picture of the egg next to a quarter and somehow double exposed it with my cat lookin' out the window. But it was big!

It was time

So, I realized I hadn't purchased a brazier in roughly seven years. That's right -- I'd been wearing the same bras since high school. (I understand this is slightly insane...moving right along.) I went to Victoria Secret to bite the bullet, and searched for a bra with NO padding, but to no avail. I went to a bra lady and asked her for help. Her incredulous level was at 11; not only had I not bought a bra in forever (it had been so long I had forgotten my size) but I didn't want a push-up bra! She tried to convince me otherwise.

Dodo: My boobs are big enough!
Bra lady: (doubtful look)
Dodo: ...I have a boyfriend?
Bra lady: Ohh.

Apparently this is the equivalent to a celibate hag who doesn't have to worry about what her breasts look like to the general population. Whatever I expected when I used it as an explanation, she stopped trying to swing me to the ultra-padded section.

Although it feels weird to not wear the old ones, it was definitely time to upgrade:

You are starry starry starry

Sorry I've been neglectful. My mom was in town, but I'll write some crap soon. Small piece of famouses news -- sat across from Pauly Shore at a restaurant and watched him try to hit on the hostess. Not successfully. Sorry Pauly.

∞(Spring Break) + √Farmers' Market

bean and cheese pupusas with all the fixins
+ iced coffee with milk and raw cane sugar
+ cut flowers
+ orchid plant
__________
= Happy Dodo

Why my mom is the greatest:

Forwarded to me via email from the momz:

I think Pointer can attest to this.

¡¡Awesometown!!

While walking in LA I noticed a large disco-era-aesthetic billboard crowing "I'd rather be in AWESOMETOWN!" with the words "Valencia, California" beneath -- unfortunately, I wasn't able to take or find a picture. Apparently, Valencia launched an Awesometown campaign in order to bolster residency numbers. This involves a website with stuff about what's happening there, and people who live there who are apparently awesome (thus, necessitating their living in Awesometown).

Valencia happens to be the suburb in which CalArts resides -- and has resided for decades, when the area was just citrus groves and a lower population of Stepford Wives. Somehow I think that CalArts is a bit of a thorn in Valencia's pretty little side, with its crazy nudie artist kids. An example of this would be in the women's bathroom I frequent, in which some artists decided to put up an impromptu installation on and near the corner stall:


These have been up for a couple of weeks. At first I stayed far, far away, but now I use the stall to take a crap and consider them my guards against intruders...needless to say, my upcoming spring break is very needed.

Earthquake Weather

I would like to begin this post by saying that this is not meant to diminish the hardship and horrors of those who have experienced serious and tragic earthquakes recently throughout the world.

That said, part of my brain is in freak-out mode...the 90% part. Let's look at the stats:

Haiti: 7.0
Chile: 8.8
Taiwan: 6.4
Turkey: 5.9

So uh...how you holdin' up San Andreas Fault?

A 10!