Everything in boxes

Dear internet-diary,

I am sorry I have been slightly awol for the past week and half or so. In my defense, it’s because I was drunk. When I wasn’t drunk, I was so busy doing so many things! These things include the following:

1. Spinsters-About-Town! The fabulous Ms. Amy was my guest for two weeks and a generally fantastic time was had by all. Our very important activities included the following:

a) Lolling.
b) Eating cake with celebrities (by “with celebrities” I mean “in a town where celebrities live,” by which I mean “sitting on the ground in a park in Beverly Hills.”)
c) Drinking margaritas out of glasses, bottles, and pineapples.
d) Buying enough bras (they were on sale!) to support the collective bosoms of a small, European city-state.
d) Discussing the etymology of the word “douche,” and deciding that every boy is probably a douche of some form or other.
e) Taking the number 96 bus-from-hell to Burbank, visiting the Warner Brothers Studio, wondering what kind of a horrible universe we must be living in for a Charlie Sheen sitcom to be the number one rated show in America, taking the 96 back home, successfully escaping the Valley despite our worst fears.
f) Seeing a Totally Real No Doubt About It Chupacabra at the Venice Freak Show.
g) Seeing Helvetica, an important film about fonts, worth watching even if you are not me and strangely obsessed with typefaces.
h) Hiking in a canyon! “Hiking in a canyon” is a phrase that used in this context means: “getting off the bus too early, walking four blocks in the wrong direction, backtracking, walking an additional four-or-so-blocks, then heading up a steep hill, finally arriving at the canyon, walking uphill as far as the first bench, sitting down, eating falafels, surreptitiously drinking wine out of a bottle in a paper bag, leaving canyon, going for Italian food.”
i) Thinking about 1977 David Bowie from the Bing Crosby Christmas Special.

“Christmas in Space, starring David Bowie”

2. Finishing my last assignment of the year. This was the project I alluded to earlier, you know, the one about Google Earth, the Sunset Strip, and teenagers. The resulting project, which is a mapped history of the music scene on the Sunset Strip, is a lot less about teenagers than I thought it would be, and a lot more about “look at how I can make these pictures hover above Southern California as though they are floating in the earth’s atmosphere, isn’t Google Earth neato,” but it’s still pretty nifty. It took a hell of a lot of time. I would like to share it with the entire interwebs, but Google makes it pretty difficult to actually publicly share a Google Earth file without an advanced degree in computer science (ie: there are a lot of involved instructions for how to do this and I do not have the attention span to read them because I want the solution now and I want it to involve no more than three steps), but I will happily send the file to anyone who wants to see it (it’s fun and has lots of pictures), just comment or email me. There is a blog that goes with the map here, but I don’t think it actually makes a lot of sense on it’s own and doesn’t really work without the accompanying map. Also, I would like to draw your attention to this entry, because I think that it really demonstrates my wit in its most refined form: It is an article from 1994 in which Dan Akroyd and friends are quoted talking about how important the House of Blues on the Sunset Strip is, because it will teach kids these days about authentic, genuine blues music, which is something that is sorely forgotten. This article is juxtaposed with a video clip filmed at the House of Blues this past May. It is a clip of the New Kids on the Block reunion show. Sometimes . . . things just speak for themselves.

3. Packing. Arg, arg, arg. What a pain. My entire apartment is now in boxes in the kitchen. But I am moving tomorrow! To West Hollywood! Yay! I will never have to drink alone in a studio apartment on a Wednesday ever, ever again! Also, I am sort of vaguely embarrassed that I have two suitcases, two giant blue bags from Ikea, and several grocery store bags full of clothing and clothing alone. YES I DO NEED ALL OF THOSE CAMISOLES SHUT UP.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I rented the first season of Wonder Woman, and am endlessly thrilled and amused by the fact that Wonder Woman’s love interest is named Steve Trevor. Because nothing says All-American Military Hero quite like a first name for a last name. Reasons why I should never be allowed to reproduce: I will likely name my children Lola, Roxanne, and Stevetrevor.

Love forever,

Alexandra

UNRELATED BONUS CONTENT!

Top two reasons why I have given up on online dating besides the obvious one*:

1. Douchebags
2. Stand-up comedians

*that reason being: it’s stupid.

ADDENDUM:

I seem to recall some Spinsterly Discussion taking place regarding “Bowie’s ascot in that Bing Crosby video,” and an ensuing Spinsterly debate over “the ascot’s gotta go” vs. “the ascot should come back in style.” Note, however, that Bowie is wearing exactly zero ascots in that video. What this means is . . . we are possibly insane.

ADDENDUM TO ADDENDUM:

A Google search for “‘david bowie’ ascot” led me to this, which appears to feature a young, luxurious-haired David Duchovny on lead vocals and keytar.