May, 2008

  1. Dear Jean Baudrillard,

    May 18, 2008 by admin

    Recent in-class conversation seems to suggest that the Disneyfication of Los Angeles is pretty much endemic and that much of the city is but a simulacrum (third order?). Well, I don’t care. I was sitting at the Apple Pan yesterday, suddenly gravely concerned that my Apple Pan experience was just a simulation of . . . the Apple Pan circa 1947. Well, Jean Baudrillard, I have decided that I don’t care. I have decided that NOTHING YOU CAN SAY WILL RUIN MY APPLE PAN HICKORY BURGER (with cheese, and also grilled onions). It is the realest thing I have ever experienced. It is possibly the ONLY real thing I have ever experienced. I would know. This isn’t my first time at the rodeo.

    Don’t fuck with me, graduate school.

    Yours, charmingly,

    Xandra A., Lady-About-Town

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  2. Je m’ennui

    May 15, 2008 by admin

    I have been experiencing the strangest little bits of ennui for the last while – which is ok. I am trying to get my shit together and deal with the deep depressions I periodically fall into by embracing emotions in shades of gray. Like, it’s ok for me to not feel overjoyed all the time, really it is. It is, in fact, normal. It is not a sign that there is something the matter with me. There is actually nothing the matter with me, other than I like to think that there’s something the matter with me.

    But anyhow.

    Lately I’ve had these strange moments where it becomes almost difficult to grasp that this, here, in Los Angeles, in California, where I am so far from so many people who are so close to my heart, is my life. I woke up in the middle of the night last night and I couldn’t figure out where I was. Once I’d figured out where I was, I started panicking about not knowing what day it was and I couldn’t remember if I’d paid my rent or if it was past due, so I had to get up and check the calendar. And I have these moments where I think of people at home, and I am completely awestruck by the fact that I dated that guy or I took voice lessons with that woman and I sang with those people and I drank at that bar and I read at that cafe and I wandered those streets drunk and laughing with my friends, and I am humbled by the pastness of the past, because I wish that nothing was in the past – I want all of my loves around me now, my new friends, and my old friends, and my love for this new city, and my love for my old streets.

    But this isn’t a sadness or a despair – I am really happy. I feel a strength that I used to lack. I am strong and independent and my heart is all mine and I want to keep it that way. It’s a nostalgia for my own past, but a desire and willingness to move forever forwards.

    And I’m going to see Kathleen Edwards at the Troubadour tomorrow night, which is so exciting for two reasons, firstly, because I’ve wanted to go to a show at the Troubadour for a while now, and secondly, because Kathleen Edwards writes songs that speak perfectly to how I’ve been feeling, and her first two albums where there for me during some epic angst a couple of years ago, so I kind of love her music a lot. And, you know, she’s Canadian, so I gotta represent.

    Another observation: living in Southern California has really made me relish overcast days.

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  3. So Good! b/w So Sad!

    May 15, 2008 by admin

    Side A: I just wanted to let everyone know that Riot on the Sunset Strip (which I screened tonight for research purposes) is a truly remarkable film. Especially notable is the long-haired mopey poet who is seen in the first few scenes sitting at a table, writing, by candlelight, in a club, during a brawl. The record number of times teenagers are referred to as “longhairs” is also a sign that this film represents a notable achievement in cinema.

    Side B: John Phillip Law has left this world! This is truly depressing. My dear John Phillip played Pygar, the blind, musclebound, slightly stupid angel in Barbarella, The Greatest Film of All Time and Most Important Cultural Artifact of My Entire Life. At this time, I am going to take a moment of silence and remember that truly transcendent moment in Danger: Diabolik when John Phillip steals several million dollars in cash, apparently for the sole purpose of covering his bed with dollar bills and then rolling around in them with a naked lady. And we know she is a lady because when John Phillip asks her what she wants for her birthday she says, (and I paraphrase slightly), “The biggest emeralds in the entire world.” And then he says “Ok, I promise that I will steal them for you, because I am Diabolik, thief-about-town, and I have all these shiny catsuits that make me sneaky,” and then once he has defied death and stolen the biggest emeralds in the entire world, he lines them up in a row across her naked breastbone, which is how we know he is a gentleman bandit, who keeps his promises, and not a lying cad bandit. And again I say: a notable achievement in cinema.

    John Phillip Law, Nerdy Girls With Glasses and Overdeveloped Tastes for Camp (Not to be Confused With Camping, Which is Awful,) Salute You!

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  4. Behind the bassline

    May 13, 2008 by admin

    1. Spellcheck is not familiar with the following musical terms, which I have used several times in the paper that I am in the process of writing: hemiola, homophony. Incidentally, I have recently had to look up the definitions of both of those words, because they are words that, you know, we just throw around and use and I suddenly was struck with a deep-seated fear that perhaps I didn’t actually know what they really meant. (Ontology is another one of those words. And I also recently figured out what dialectic actually means and now it is my favourite word so I use it all the time.) But it turns out that my Bachelor of Music degree was not all for naught, because I was correct about both. Thank you, graduate school, for needlessly casting everything I know into doubt.

    2. Tonight is an excellent night, because tonight, for the first time in many moons, I checked the balance of my Canadian bank account, only to discover that the Government of Canada has, in fact, filled it with dollars, in the form of tax return money. I am kind of perplexed as to how this actually happened, because I haven’t held a real job since . . . summer . . . 2005? I think? My income (in Canada, at least) since then has largely come from funny, non-taxed grants and things that I’m good at applying for, and also that sketchball, under-the-table church choir gig. So I am just going to interpret this money as Canada giving me a stipend for being Rather Brilliant.

    3. Today was a funny day. I started my day by dropping a bowl on the floor so that it shattered to brilliant effect, and then I got to school only to discover that I lost the heel lift from my shoe somewhere between home and the bus stop, went to a meeting with a professor to discuss a paper, discovered that the other meeting I’d scheduled had been canceled, went home to change shoes, and then spent the rest of the day writing and writing and writing, with the end result being one shitty paper about Buffalo Springfield, and one quarter of a paper about Wanda Jackson. I am kind of exhausted by my productivity.

    4. Tomorrow night I will not be productive! Tomorrow night I will go play pub quiz with my pub quiz team, and, as is my custom, I shall get just drunk enough to be slightly belligerent and completely unhelpful (example of my unhelpfulness: last time I, supposedly a “musicologist” with a scholarly interest in that new fangled “popular music” that the kids are always talking about, could not remember the name of the third original Supreme. In my defense, I was able to identify Queen Elizabeth II as one of the women that Billy Joel mentions in We Didn’t Start the Fire), and with luck, we shall come in fifth place. We will never do better than fifth place, because this is Los Angeles, so the other people who play pub quiz are actually Jeopardy champions. No, really.

    6. And then when I get home, I am going to watch Riot on the Sunset Strip! Which is supposed to be terrible/AMAZING. But it is for research purposes, I swear to god, so I promise that shall retain my decorum as I view the film, and hopefully post a biting, critically-informed review.

    7. Incidentally, my “research” this quarter is mostly revolving around the following very important things: drunken teenagers cavorting wildly at the Whisky-a-Go-Go during the 1960s, and how to depict this phenomenon cartographically using Google Earth; The Slits and how they invoke the divine by screaming, panting, and covering themselves in mud; rockabilly. This is all part of my elaborate scheme to save and/or take over the world by harnessing the mighty powers of ROCK.

    Speaking of ROCK and its nefarious powers, I am deeply in lust with that Spoon album that came out last summer. That is one sexy little record. It has almost replaced my need for gentlemen callers. If that’s not nefarious, I don’t know what is.

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  5. And then she realized

    May 8, 2008 by admin

    1. I have had my housecoat since the Christmas before I turned twelve years old. I have had my housecoat for twelve years. I am now twenty-four. I have had my housecoat for HALF OF MY LIFE. I was fine with having had my housecoat for twelve years until I realized that twelve years was half of my life and then I started thinking about mortality and oh my god, holy fuck I’m going to die fuck fuck fuck I need a new housecoat. I want this one because it is the kind of thing Joan Crawford would wear with a matching turban and her face covered in milk of magnesia, but it is out of stock because life has no meaning. So the hunt is now on for something equivalent.

    Incidentally, the housecoat I have had for twelve years is blue velvet with blue satiny leopard spotted trim, and was given to me for Christmas because I specifically requested “a velvet housecoat two sizes too big so that I can sweep around the house in it, like I’m the queen of the house,” which gives you a pretty good idea of how special I was as a twelve-year-old.

    I also feel like this new housecoat purchase can be something of a splurge, because if I keep up with my current behavioral patterns, I will keep said housecoat until I turn 48.

    2. Speaking of patterns, here is an ongoing one that I have detected in my life:

    Whenever there is a concert that I want to see in Los Angeles, I spend a few days excited about going, and then a few days convincing myself that I shouldn’t go because it is too expensive and I shouldn’t be riding the bus around strange parts of town at night, and then a few days convincing myself that I really should go anyhow because it will be awesome, and then a few days devising a plan that ideally will involve me purchasing two tickets to said concert and offering the second one for free to whichever of my friends will drive me there. At this point, I go to the Ticketmaster website and discover that the concert is sold out. I then post something sad on my blog about not being able to get tickets to see Band I Really Want To See, in hopes that the internet will magically find me a gentleman with an extra ticket, like it did that one time. If the concert is, miraculously, not sold out, I buy tickets, just in time for the concert to be canceled the next day. (Dear Beth Ditto and friends: WHY?) And then I spend the evening of the concert sitting around in my underwear, drinking red wine out of a teacup.

    So what I am trying to say is that both Flight of the Conchords shows are sold out, and there’s a bottle of red wine in my kitchen that I picked because it has a funny picture of a rooster on the label.

    3. For months stupid Tyra Banks was on the side of every bus and every time I saw a bus I got mad because stupid Tyra Banks is conceivably the world’s awfulest celebrity. But now I have had my comeuppance, because now, charming Ira Glass is on the side of every bus, and he is such a cute man. I have only listened to his show once, and I think I read an interview with him in Bust or Venus or something, but based on the number of times I have seen his picture on buses, I think I have the authority to say that he is a very cute man. Ooh, and wikipedia just told me that he has a degree in semiotics, which is very pretentious. Good job, Ira! Although he would probably be cuter with a beard. Here, I have made a helpful visual aid to illustrate this point:


    4. OH MY GOD What if Han Solo and Lando Calrissian were having a secret love affair during those few idyllic days on Bespin? Oh, they totally were! And that makes Lando’s subsequent betrayal of Han and Leia and Chewie and Co. so much more heartbreaking! George Lucas, why do you do this to me? That new Indiana Jones movie better have lots of SPACE ALIENS and involve a subplot in which Indy and Comrade Cate Blanchett get naked onboard Sputnik 2.

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  6. Weekend plans:

    May 7, 2008 by admin

    I am going to inconspicuously mill around Venice, with my special FBI Agent-catching net, looking for camera crews.

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  7. On the artistic merits of heartbreak

    May 7, 2008 by admin

    I would like to start a band which only plays very sad songs. I am really into very sad things right now, which is not to say that I am sad – in fact, I am currently feeling kind of wonderful and strong. But cultural expressions of sadness fascinate me, especially things that are so sad and pathos-laden that they become absurd and hilarious. I bought a little zine by Adam Meuse at the book fair that’s called Sad Animals, and it kind of exactly embodies what I mean – it’s little pictures of seahorses thinking “I’m a fool,” and squirrels who don’t feel anything, and sighing octopuses.

    But I would like to start a band that plays only very sad songs. My band would be called Two Bucks for Bela, which is a reference to this scene in the movie Ed Wood, where Bela Lugosi is complaining about how nobody cares about him since Boris Karloff hit it big, and Lugosi says “now nobody gives two bucks for Bela!” which is so sad, but so funny. I will play ukulele and sing with the deep, low, bluesy part of my voice that doesn’t get used very much because they all told me I was a soprano. I don’t know who else would be in my band – maybe someone with a farfisa? Or maybe a bass guitar? Ukulele and bass guitar? I think that would be neat. And sometimes I’ll play the saw a bit, too. I miss playing the saw. I had to leave my saw in Canada, along with my guitar. Luckily, saws are cheaper than guitars, and are available at hardware stores. And we will play dark, dark songs about being sad and alone and alcoholic, and maybe I will compose some settings of Dorothy Parker poetry because she is the best at sad, lonely, alcoholism.

    And that is my plan for finding true love.

    Today I wrote a paper that was ostensibly about Verdi, but was actually about my grandmother. And it made me feel good to write like that. I had to call my dad and ask what my grandmother’s maiden name was, which is kind of embarrassing, because I feel like that’s the kind of thing I should know. And then I watched bad science fiction with my friends. And then I sat in the bathtub and read Proust. The “sitting in the bathtub” part was much more fun than the “reading Proust” part. Oh, the things I do in the name of being a scholar and a gentlewoman.

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  8. Look at this stuff! Isn’t it neat?

    May 4, 2008 by admin

    Evidence suggests that adding “Forever by the sea” to the end of any sentence renders it instantly hilarious. I predict that this will be the new “in bed” game.

    We went to the singalong Little Mermaid! It was approximately 32 kinds of amazing, all at once, forever by the sea. And! Did you know! The voice talent behind Chef Louis is none other than Mr. Rene Auberjonois, who is the acting talent behind Constable Odo, from Star Trek Deep Space Nine! If I had to put a figure on it, I would say that this piece of information has made my life 27.3% better. Oh, also I might have a crush on King Triton because he has a beard and acts all saucily authoritarian but then feels bad about it, which is kind of hot.

    Also, Hillside tickets were deceptively easy to get this morning. Last year it took me, like, an hour, I think? But this year I got through in 17 minutes and then went back to bed, but the ease with which said tickets were purchased makes me paranoid that it was all a mistake and I will get a letter in the mail that says “SORRY YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO ATTEND OUR FESTIVAL OF MUSIC AND COMMUNITY AND HIPSTERS.”

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  9. Dear Whole Foods I Kind of Hate You and Here’s Why,

    May 3, 2008 by admin

    You do not sell tampons. You do, however, sell ostrich steaks.

    Great. Thanks a lot, Whole Foods. I read this book once about how communism basically failed in the Soviet Union because the government simply failed to provide basic necessities, like, for instance, tampons, to the public, but that sometimes there would, inexplicably, be caviar available in shops. So what I’m saying, Whole Foods, is that you’d better prioritize because a girl cannot live on ostrich steaks and caviar alone.

    I’m also not saying that Whole Foods is run by commies because clearly it is just run by Satan and his hippie capitalist minions. But I will probably still keep shopping there anyhow because of that really good hummus. Jerks.

    Yours Truly,

    Xandra A., who sometimes menstruates but never, ever eats ostrich steaks.

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  10. Beards. Sigh.

    May 2, 2008 by admin

    I don’t want summer to come.

    If summer comes the boys will shave off their beards, and then what? And then I will be sad, that’s what, because, for reasons unknown, I have recently become wildly attracted to the beard, and, more specifically, to cute boys with beards and also novelty moustaches in certain circumstances, and, occasionally, sideburns. My ideal would have a beard, a handlebar moustache and a top hat. In sum, I am looking for a walking anachronism and/or caricature.

    If one were to psychoanalyze, one might come to the conclusion that my recently-developed beard fixation is a result of the fact that the last guy I dated was practically a girl, but I am never one to psychoanalyze, oh no, not me.

    (Here is my favourite ever beard. In the world. Forever. By the sea.)

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