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When Mustachioed Acquaintances Offer You Sex

While wandering my favorite book store in search of that hidden, unmarked book that only I will see that will give me the answers to all of life’s problems, my pocket vibrates and I look down to see an incoming text that reads, “I can offer you sex and only that.”

 Hm. Intriguing.
This text came from a young gentleman I’ve known for a little over six months now. We’re both only children and narcissists, so throwing us in a room together is like watching Truman Capote and Andy Warhol trying to put sticks of dynamite up each other’s asses (that made sense in my head).
He’s a good looking young man with the charm of Warren Beatty, the tongue of Oscar Wilde, the mustache of a Ron Jeremy, and the chest hair of Burt Reynolds. On paper, he’s the man that I’ve dreamt about since I was four.
He also has the ego the size of the entire continent of South America. Though I’m typically attracted to the illusion that egocentricity brings, the reality is, I want to slap him upside the head every (more…)
July 15, 2009 by
Writing

The Terrible Things We Do to One Another

I’m working on a project titled, “The Terrible Things We Do to One Another”.

It will be a collection of first hand examples of the terrible things we do to one another in love & relationships because of fear/insecurity/anger etc. Outside of religion, I can’t think of any other circumstance where humans can act so blatantly irrational.
This idea came off the heels of the passing of a two month “stepping out with” a sweet, older gentleman (that made him sound 80 years old). It’s just that “dating” does not seem appropriate in this situation, but neither does “hooking up” when you’re talking about someone who is twelve years older than you and actually cares enough to take you out to dinner. He did everything right in regards to “breaking up” with me (is it breaking up if it’s not dating? Maybe he “unstepped out with me”? Or he is now “stepping in”?) It was the first time I encountered a man who did not do something completely clueless, cold, or irrational to me. In fact, it was easy (more…)
July 14, 2009 by
Writing

My New Favorite Thing: American Apparel’s Le Sac


I used to hate the Le Sac dress at American Apparel. You know, that huge sheet of fabric on a string that you walk by at the store and go, “How in God’s name…?”

I used to glare at it and curse it, and occasionally throw it on the ground while trying it on. I would watch the instructional videos of all the different styles to wear, somehow get caught lopsided in the dress, and end up crying and feeling extremely defeated by a large piece of cotton.
In my mind I thought the dress would serve a better purpose as a tent. There was no reason why one should have to think about how to put on an article of clothing! None! I want to be brainless while putting clothing on in the morning.
Then the other day, a friend walked me step by step through a couple of different styles.

A light bulb went off.

This sh** is easy!
And it looks super cute too!
Ever since then I’ve been a Le Sac machine; changing into a different style every two hours. Who needs a stylist when you can constantly reinvent your own (more…)
July 2, 2009 by
Writing

Jumping on the MJ Band Wagon

I didn’t care very much either way for Michael Jackson growing up.

Wait, I take that back.

When I was eight years old I was OBSESSED with the song, “Black or White”. 
My primary colored cassette player for toddlers broke after playing the single for two months straight. I also would be lying if I didn’t say that when “HIStory” came out, my best friend Angela and I would preform our own interpretive dance to “Earth Song” in front of (my still favorite) VHS camcorder.  Like every adult in 1979, my parents owned “Off the Wall” and like every child of the 80’s, I remember being told that “Thriller” was the coolest thing I’ll ever see in my lifetime. When the pedophilia allegations occurred in the early 90’s and early 2000’s, I rolled my eyes and let out a joke or two like everyone else. Other than that, I didn’t think about Michael Jackson much. I was never proactive in putting an MJ song on, but if I came across one, I wouldn’t turn it off.
With all that being said, I have had THE MOST UNBELIEVABLE (more…)
June 26, 2009 by
Writing

Tour Guides at the Alamo…

…Don’t like being asked where the basement is.
I already checked.
(One day, I will do a study on the percentage of people who ask that daily at the Alamo. I’m guessing it’s somewhere around 7%).

People in San Antonio just don’t get Pee-Wee!

However, the people in Austin do.
Austin hearts Pee-Wee big time.
Enough to have a PEE-WEE’S BIG ADVENTURE bike-in this weekend.
Yeah, you heard me. Bike-in.
The Alamo Drafthouse and Rolling Roadshow presented an outdoor screening of the classic movie on a patch of eastside grass. A soggy patch of eastside grass. You see, it rained earlier that evening and most folks thought the event was cancelled, so the excitement leading up to the event was dampened by dampness. However, that didn’t stop the hardcore PW fans from showing up in full costume and quoting every single freaking line in the movie. I have to say, the highlight of the evening was watching the crowd’s response to Pee-Wee singing, “The stars at night are big and bright….”
May 26, 2009 by
Austin

Austin- Day 231 (A Love Letter)

Dear Austin,

We’ve been dating now for 231 days! 
I can’t believe it! 
Remember the day I showed up on your doorstep, a lost but eager child? My car was filled to the brim with only what I could carry. I had no job lined up, no friends to carry me through. I left behind the life I knew to take a chance on you, Austin, and it was worth it!

That day was the first time I ever laid eyes on you… and it was love at first sight.
That’s not to say there wasn’t a bumpy honeymoon. I often doubted my dedication to you, my mind was frequently tempted by my former flame, Los Angeles. L.A. would string me along, seduce me with her layered mystique and you’ve been patient with me, Austin. You’ve understood my complicated relationship with L.A. A love-hate tango that will probably never dance away. But you stuck by me and my love for you has grown stronger. Every day, you inspire me with your selfless ways and creative energy.
I’ve turned a blind eye to your flaws, just as you have to me. I forgive you for (more…)
May 22, 2009 by
Writing

My Kidneys Bring All the Boys to the Yard

Like most young people, I never give my urinary tract much thought.

Actually, I could give a crap about it.
I’m glad I can still have that attitude because when I’m sixty-something and it starts failing me, I will greatly give a shit about it.
I will realize it’s true importance only then when I’m sitting in a pool of my own piss confused as to how it got there.
My urinary tract has only come up in conversation twice and neither time by me.
Ok, that’s probably a lie.
More specifically, my kidneys have been mentioned by two separate strangers claiming they were physic. Once when I was 11 years old and walking through downtown Cortland, NY, the other when I was 22 and jogging down Venice Beach boardwalk. Both went out of their way to gravely tell me that something was wrong with my kidneys. Both times I ran crying in the other direction.
You see, I’ve never had problems with my kidneys. I also don’t necessarily believe in physics. I believe in being able to read people’s auras (more…)
May 6, 2009 by
Writing

Young Hearts be Free Tonight

So, I have this umm…friend.
She met this man that she really really likes.

Instead of actually telling him that when the opportunity presented itself, she decided to write about it in her blog instead.
Makes perfect sense, right?

“I like you.
I obviously have the emotional maturity of a gerbal that’s preventing me from telling you that.
It seems I’m only able to convey my feelings through texts, blog posts, and the occasional Facebook status update as of late.
That means that unless I grow some cognizant balls quickly, you will probably never know how I feel and walk away.”

What the hell happened to you, Lau-, I mean, Lorraine? What happened to the girl who made herself a badge once that said, “The #1 Most Self-Aware Person in the World”? The girl who champions communication! Why is it, that upon being asked what she wanted out of their frequent rendez-vous, she immediately did an impression of a deer caught in headlights and proceeded to zero in on the soup she was eating and exerting all energy (more…)

May 4, 2009 by
Writing

Damn You Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham!

I blame you for my warped view of love!

You’ve doomed me to believe that I’ll never know what real love is unless I have the urge to write 150 songs about some dude involving the words “angel”, “destiny”, “or crystal-something”. Of course he would have to write angry, less poetic, monosyllable songs attacking my character and talent. I would have to wear layers of billowy chiffon and a hairstyle that looks like a goose down pillow exploded on my head; he would have to have a huge 70’s white man ‘fro, wear chest hair embellishing v-necks with gold chains, and platform shoes though he’s already six feet tall. He would have to play the guitar with no pic and glare at me onstage when a lyric referred to me. I would twirl around a lot. We’d go do a line of coke, then go fuck backstage.
Yeah, that’s real love.
Fleetwood Mac’s reunion live show, “The Dance”, premiered when I was fourteen years old. I don’t recall listening to Fleetwood Mac before then but became transfixed when I saw (more…)
May 1, 2009 by
Writing

Unnamed Paragraph

Our intern, John, comes running past. 

“Quick! Rob is parking. Everyone hide!!!”

John is adorable in that rosy-cheeked-just-fell-off-the-bus-into-Los Angeles-and-hit-my-head-on-the-pavement kind of way. He is in his third year at journalism school and takes his job here very seriously. I’m sure he had three tasks today; stock the fridge, take out the mail, and be on the lookout for when Rob gets back from lunch. And I’m sure he accomplished all three with admirable conviction. 

My co-workers scramble under their desks in anticipation of saying “Surprise!”, which seems like a wasted effort to me as we’re all respectively engulfed by cubicle walls as it is. There are eight of us in the bull pen: Amy, our office manager and resident struggling actress, sits at the front door, Kyle, our style editor and resident struggling musician sits in cubicle number #1 a.k.a. “The Love Den”, Brad, our field writer and resident struggling screenwriter, sits in cubicle number #2 a.k.a. “Deathstar”, Ginger, (more…)

April 27, 2009 by