Ah, its Nikki & the Corvettes finally! Took me ages to get a copy of their album on CD, I am just completely in love with them. Its hard to find late 70s girl rock that actually is woth a damn. But they are absolutely ADORABLE. And I was flipping through the leaflet and they are so cute it kills, mostly because of their outfits, shorts with strap heels and berets and the cutest haircuts. Come on, its awesome. They're kind of like the female version of the Ramones.
You wouldn't believe it, but the sun came out today. I thought this was some kind of good sign. I visited Dave today, actually I woke him up to tell him some idiotic story like always. He was pretty cool about it, but Jesus, its so awkward. It might take awhile to get back to being the Platonic Pair again...but whatever.
I'm just happy that its sunny and I've got great girl rock, and semi-plans this weekend. Holy shit, its Friday, I forgot! Augh, I have to work a double today, I hope the SDMB isn't there. Maybe the SDT will be there, at least he's bearable. But only bearable. I mean, I can only stand so many corny jokes before I feel like puking.
Well, someone finally cracked. Dave broke up with me yesterday, after two years. It was really, really devastating because he didn't say anything the entire time, everything was just normal and as soon as I was on my way out the door he blurted it out. I had some kind of idiotic panic attack and got mascara all over his shirt and then ran all the way home. I'm trying my hardest not to go over there and talk to him. But, I can't.
He's my best friend, which is even worse. So, I have pretty much nobody to talk to about it except my blog. Whatever, I'm getting better. I actually feel a lot better than I did this morning. I felt like I was being held underwater, and it sucked. Maybe he'll still talk to me, I mean I don't know what I'll do without being able to drag somebody to coffee at weird hours and watch my stupid movies with and talk about comic books.
He was really stressing the "I want to be your friend" crap. So, maybe I still have that, because I'm screwed otherwise. Today, I went searching through my phone book looking for people to do stuff with but its completely empty sans Maggie and Jiabao, who pretty much work whenever I'm off...and they don't speak English, and they hate coffee. This is really depressing.
I think this is why people are so crazy. I think this is the first breakup where I actually cared about the person. It was really scary, really really scary. Scary as in listening to Petula Clark albums on repeat for hours and hours kind of scary. I guess I kind of understand why people are so bitchy all the time. Ah, to relate to the world with our heartbreak.
Anyway, I've found some solid coping methods, such as watching the entire Beach Party film series. Nothing lifts my spirits better than Eric Von Zipper and the crazy groovy butt shaking dancing. Ah...and I went shopping on amazon.com and finally bought myself the Jack Kerouac collection on CD. I think that I kind of needed it at that point. I listened to all the tracks online and completely forgot how miserable I was. (He had the sexiest voice ever.)
Now, I'm completely obsessed with Hal Liffson's 1966 compilation. We'll see what the week brings now with my new obsessions and sudden change.
I swear, I'm going insane. Today I wanted nothing more than to lock myself behind a door and read for hours on end, and I would have to, if the world would have permitted it to be. I get so caught up in things like books that for the short duration that I read one (or five at a time) I become so completely absorbed in the story, the characters, that I really lose all sense of self. Its really amazing how much literature can affect me sometimes. I nearly go into comas after reading anything by Chuck Palahniuk, I sometimes go nearly frantic after reading Daniel Clowes...Its like being out of body I guess.
But I'm having an Enid day today. I locked myself up directly after getting home from work and cuddled up with a nice viewing of Ghost World. Its kind of like comfort food for me, except I don't eat a bunch of really gross food. I just sort of watch my life interpreted for film. It's amazing how alike the character Enid and I are. It scares me sometimes, but we pretty much have the same problems, the same creepy fetishes, and odd sense of style. Its incredible. And creepy. Should I take up a hobby? Make some friends?
That also hit me tonight, alone, reading under a lamp. Do I really have any social contact aside from work? Eek. I'm a total loner. I'm some kind of eccentric curiosity that people laugh upon. I'm a novelty for onlookers. Jesus. Maybe I just hate people or something. I really can't stand being around crowds of total idiotic morons.
And they are. I sometimes dread going to class in the morning because I feel like I'm somehow trasnported back to kindergarten, except nobody speaks Spanish and there aren't any H.R. Pufnstuff references. But these people are in an age range from 18-30 and they act like total degenerate losers. I seriously swear that they poke, and giggle and run around the classroom. Sometimes, I wonder if I was accidentally put in special ed or something. They're a bunch of remedial fuckups and losers.
I hate it. I hate that I can't relate to a single goddam person in my own generation.
This week is dragging on so badly. I'm just dying. Sometimes, holiday breaks really suck. But, it gives me an opportunity to sleep constantly and shop for pointless things on Amazon. And who doesn't appreciate that?
I saw Dave yesterday. Well, actually I went and visited him at his apartment. He was less than enthusiastic, even though I brought him a ton of sci-fi to keep him busy on his day off. Despite how nice and thoughtful I can be, I don't think people really ever truly appreciate my efforts. Whatever, he's just oblivious I suppose. Maybe its all the pot smoke inhilation.
I decided to focus my interest on things other than men, well, aside from David Bowie and Nick Drake and all my other 70s icon infatuations. But, I really need to get out once in awhile. Work keeps me confined in this town, and making leaving near to impossible. Plus there isn't anyone who would go on an adventure with me. Apparently nobody likes roadtrips.
Speaking of roadtrips. I'm trying to get my way into one this summer. To the homeland. I really need to get back there and regain my native tongue, and see everyone important. Ah, that would be amazing. I can't wait for summer. We're kind of on the verge of spring right now, but I'm just squirming around waiting for the sun to come out.
I'm still trying to get used to the time change. Ack, its so annoying though. It's like changing times zones....ugh. Anyway, the SDMB was gone today! So, I had a spectacular day since I got to work with Josh and David. They're pretty much amazing and really fun to work with.
Ugh, Dave hasn't talked to me in two weeks. Whatever. I'll just leave a mixed tape in his mailbox and maybe that will get the point across. Oh my god, I'm so into sixties surf music lately, I think I'm having frightening childhood flashbacks or something. I'm too kitsch for my own good sometimes.
I'm taking my camera out tommorow, since the weather has turned for the best and there's no school or work. I just think that I've run out of creative things to photograph since Anne and Kate went postal. Maybe I'll come up with something bizarre.
Speaking of bizzare. I just discovered the best dance club song EVER. Brigitte Bardot's "Contact", which is actually on my playlist. Brigitte is so deck. If I ever open up a cafe with my inheritance, I will so play that all the time. Oh yeah, and I just ordered a Brigitte compiliation which comes in...tommorow! I forgot to check if that song is on it. I think it has an amazing music video as well, which I would post if youtube would allow it, but I think there's some connection error that is not allowing me to post videos anymore. So midtown...
You know what sucks? Television. Tonight for the first time in ages, I actually sat down in front of the tv, and we have like 700 channels and nothing was good. It was either pornographic, boring, car crashes, or reality tv. Even the MTV classics was showing another damned Prince movie. Like we care. Now I know why I never watch it. Although, I've been kind of an election nerd as of late, and I think I know where I stand...I'm really hoping Obama takes a drop since all that investigative reasearch aired the other night. I really don't want him getting the nomination. He seems like such a poseur...and his wife is so trying to be Jackie O. There is only one Jackie, and frankly, she will never be that.
So, let's hope Hillary kicks his ass so that I don't have to vote for that corpse McCain. Do we seriously need another hardcore Christian conservative muddling things up? Plus, he's like, ancient, how long could he possibly last? And his wife creeps me out. Eek.
Whatever. They all kind of suck, but some more than others. But that's my opnion.
Eeek! I just ordered a stack of albums today, I'm tremendously excited. I wonder if they'll give me my show back at the radio station...I'd be willing to take the job back since that creep Marshall moved to California because he thought someone was going to kill him. Seriously, having a freaky obsession with a radio show host is bizarre. And who wears rainbow suspenders anymore? He was so fin. But I miss my show. The Lola Show really needs to come back, I've gotten so many emails of people begging me to bring back the show because they miss my music, my rants, my poetry readings, and all my freaky guest stars.
I miss my freaky guest stars! Haha, that one guy was really awesome, he looked like some kind of cheesy 70s porn star, and he would bring in a guitar and jam out to Johnny Cash and he was so creepy. He would write me love notes in the computer lab. Eek. Oh, and Jay, he would argue with me on the show for two hours while he played the instrumentals to 80s power ballads on my acoustic. That stuff was jazzy. I miss the good 'ol days.
But it also sucked sometimes because I would have drunken jocks and idiots calling into the station all the time telling me I'm some kind of psychopath for playing Sonic Youth and Astrud Gilberto. What a bunch of frados! At least my show didn't have three hour marathon listenings of death metal like all the other shows. Well, you have to admit, Panxie really does give a kick ass show.
Anyway, Photo Shoot # 5 starts next week. I'm going mad trying to get everything together. I managed to score some deck vintage clothes from the thrift shop, and I've actually got a rack started. I just have to sit in front of my sewing machine all weeked getting them altered so they'll fit on the girls. I've never had more excited models since Anne and Kate. I'm still debating the location, though. I'm trying to aim for the old railroad building covered in grafitti, to maybe give its some edge. Or the Uni. I don't know. But I should.
I went to the diner this morning, but Dave wasn't there, which was depressing. I miss stalking him at his work. But I did get mauled by Kyle, so, whatever. And I got some of their coffee, which I have come to believe is the best crappy diner coffee I have ever drank.
Ack, and I found out Wes Anderson has a new movie out, The Darjeeling Limited, I'm freaking out, I have to see it, Jason Swartzman has undeniable sex appeal, and any Wes Anderson movie is amazing anyway. But come on...Jason Swartzman! I think I'm going to go rent it RIGHT NOW.
The scene is dead. Quite literally, I might add. It's now finally March, the coldest, saddest month of the year in Montana. Why, you might ask? For some reason, the weather starts to play its evil little tricks, bright sunny days of bitter cold, frozen streets, and no spring break trip to the desert.
Yeah, Dave and I can't go roadtripping like we planned. Mostly, this is due to the fact that I got my hospital bill for a $3,000 MRI. That's so midtown. That, and the SDMB is now not giving vacation time anymore because we all got strep at the same time and nobody showed up to work for a week. It's really depressing. I'm so tired of being cold all the time. Is there seriously a place you can live that is a comfortable temperature all year long? The Amazon perhaps? I actually have dreams all the time that I live in the Amazon. How weird is that? Maybe my subconcious is trying to make me feel warmer when I'm sleeping. That's really thoughtful of it.
I actually had to wear a hoodie to bed last night. It's that cold. And I had the thermostat on 70, too. My house has weird technologically advanced heating run on some kind of computer that shuts the heat off at weird hours. Tell me why I moved to an ICE BOX?
That's one major thing I miss about life in California, its still kind of warm in the winter, and summers are godlike. I miss humidity. People think I'm insane, but I do, its so very dry in Montana. You have to buy shares from lotion companies to stay hydrated.
Anyway, tonight I indulged in some mainstream filth, I watched 27 Dresses with Maggs at the theatre. Since this podunk cinema only shows two films at a time it was between that and The Bucket List, which looked completely midtown and I hate Jack Nicholson, he's so annoying. Plus it looked annoyingly sappy and pathetic. Not that 27 Dresses didn't have innumerable flaws, at least there was a sexy man or two and adorable Katherine Heigl wearing the cutest outfits to look at.
Oh my god, I finally got a new copy of Party Monster today. I LOVE that movie. And it was only like three dollars on Amazon. Steal. And I got my Logan's Run today. But I'm SO PISSED! They changed the cover on the new re-release of it, and its so not 70s and colourful like the old one. Its all H.R. Geiger and dark looking and it just REALLY pissed me off. Why do we have to go around changing things that are already deck to begin with.
Which reminds me...film remakes. WHYYYY? Is Hollywood so desperate for ideas that they have to keep remaking already perfect movies??? And usually, the remakes are so outrageous, like they're trying WAY too hard to make it better or something that it completely ruins the whole point the film is making. I hear that not only are they remaking Logan's Run, but Barbarella too? What the fuck? If they do, I will lose all hope in the film industry.
Ah, okay, rant over. So, classes finished today. I'm really depressed because spring break is next week and I've only had two classes since my month long winter break...how many breaks does a person need? I'm still getting over jet lag from last time, and I would rather just take another class than have to work for a week with the SDMB. And, my next class is photography, so I'm going to have anxiety attacks until I can get back into the photo lab. I miss it so much. And they close the damned campus over break, so we can't have any seaunces in there either.
Oh, and I've found more people who have experienced the paranormal in the old main hall. I swear, its insane, and they all have the same exact stories and we've all just met. Which is weird, and their all from different years and its just crazy that they all go to the piano music up in the tower. Freaky.
Oh halleluiah, I finally found a decent copy of Divine's Native Love today, for $2.99! Ack! How awesome! I've been looking forever, but if I ordered from the record shop the price would have been outrageous. Apparently nobody listens to eighties gay bar dance mixes anymore...
And, I FINALLY got my new copy of Logan's Run, which was extremely exciting seeing as I've been deprived for sometime ever since my sci-fi collection went missing. Tommorow is my day off so I might just have to go to the boy's apartment and set up my own little vintage sci-fi marathon (Barbarella, Logan's Run, One Million Years BC, A Boy and His Dog, etc.)
Oh, and FINALLY my town opened a new photo processing store. FINALLY AFTER FIVE MONTHS OF PHOTO DEVELOPING DEPRIVATION!!! I can't believe the drugstore sold out to some sickening corporation. A sickening corporation that doesn't believe in quality photo processing, or selling camera equiptment, and replacing all of the pharmacy staff who knew me by name. Evil, I tell you. Bunch of sell-outs though. But, I should just be grateful that I can get back to my picture taking frenzy again. AND the new photo place is right under the boy's apartment, how awesome is that? Now, I can visit them while I wait for my photos. Eeek.
We had the first full run through for the play today. Whatshisface finally started acting like a human, well, a semi, less judegmental human. And I met this adorable guy backstage and we talked forever about our paranormal experiences, which was kind of weird, but amazing at the same time. I hope we have more backstage conversations in the future.
Aaaaaaah. I need to work on my journal for class tommorow. It's pretty much done, but to me, nothing is ever really perfect.
Enid Doll! Yeah, sounds super stupid right? Super kitsch, super vinyl, super fucking awesome are by far better ways to describe the Enid doll. I mean, this is almost better than Blythe...okay, almost. But really, Enid and I are kindred spirits. We belong together.
Remember my Blythe obsession though? I think that's one of the things from my childhood that never went away, like my obsession with Hello Kitty. But really who couldn't love a doll that has huge eyes that change colour? Really...Blythe goes hand in hand with my Polaroid camera and Sharpie collection, and my black book. Necessary things. Kind of like how William S. Burroughs carried around a box of "important/necessary things" wherever he went. My purse is filled with stuff like that. Except, I don't know what Burroughs might have carried around with him, I wonder if I could research that. People always ask me why I carry such a big bag (as in airline carry on size bag) everywhere. Necessity, I always say. And you know what? I never go anywhere unprepared. My bag has it all.
But mostly stuff that I could appreciate. Mostly books and cameras and writing/painting supplies. For some reason, over the past week, I've been keeping a pallette knife in my bag...For some reason I have this fear that I might one day need to paint acryllics and not have a pallette knife handy. It could happen, really it could.
But yes, I always have a copy of Ghost World, Howl, and Franny and Zooey in my bag, alongside with some kind of book on Zen Buddhism, or whatever Asian religion or philosophy I'm into that week. I think this week is a Hare Krishna book, but who knows...And I always have my Buddha pendant and other miscellaneous religious kitsch. I think one week I carried around a Saint Guadalupe candle for no reason. Am I absent minded or what?
But back to Blythe. I'm working on a photo project, a very cliche Blythe project of photographing your Blythe in various places. Its kind of like a cult thing. But, hey, I'm a photography major, so I guess it counts as art. And anyway, I remembered back to my old Blythe doll from when I was seven, and how Steinbeck accidentally decapitated her in my grandmother's art studio after a very serious game of super modeling with my Twiggy doll. Obviously Twiggy won...I guess death qualifies as disqualification in super modeling competitions. Oh well, as Deb. Harry always said, die young, stay pretty. Blythe rests peacefully, buried under my grandmother's grapefruit tree somewhere in central California. Is it normal that seven year olds have doll funerals?
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