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I'm The One That I Want by Margaret Cho. I was so disappointed that I couldn't make the book fair at UCLA last weekend with my friend Tracey, so she thought to buy the book for me. I missed the one-woman show when I lived in New York, but Tracey and I went to see the film last fall in Santa Monica. If you want to know how much my friends rock, Tracey even had it autographed:
Erica
Good luck in New York!
-Margaret Cho
. . .
I'm also still reading Simple Indulgence: Easy, Everyday Things to Do for Me by Janet Eastman. I'm such a dork, I keep reading the quotes and ideas, but not doing the journalling portion.
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"Someday we'll find it
the rainbow connection
the lovers, the dreamers and me
alllll of us under it's spell."
-Kermit THE Frog
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Stuck in my head:
"Boogie-oogie-oogie get down."
Thank you, Disco Stu! (My favorite Simpsons sight gag-cum-character.)
I heard Britney Spears' "Bottom of My Broken Heart" while making a selection from the feminine hygeine aisle at Wal Mart and exclaimed, "Fucking Britney Spears...Gah!"
That's one of the videos I had to watch about a million times to select snippets for the web site and the enhanced CD single. Ever hearing it again is too much, too soon.
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The Simpsons, The Sopranos & Armistead Maupin's Further Tales of the City. I didn't even realize there were making another one, I just happened to see it listed. I'm going to have to finish the book series now, as I think I've only read through the fourth book and this mini-series is based on the third book.
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While you're visiting the Gallery of Regrettable Food, don't miss Meat!. This one in particular made me laugh until I couldn't breathe. "Sometimes meat likes to dress up and feel pretty."
Swanson Parade of Lost Identity -- women who, in probably their only 15 minutes of fame, were for the most part known only as Mrs. HisLastName.
. . .
Co-Author of The Rules to divorce! So you can't manipulate a man into marrying and staying married to you? Perhaps you have to come into it as two individuals and show who you really are from the beginning? I guess this means that no amount of growing your hair long, pretending not to be smart or funny, and "training" a man will make for a happy marriage.
. . .
Ever wonder where that dollar bill's been? Mine was in Chicago two months ago.
. . .
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Another Elvis dream (I'm doing the Memphis section of my color scrapbook now, but I haven't got to Graceland yet), this one cannibalistic.
What started out as an autopsy to discover THE TRUTH, turned into Elvis Stew. It was rich and beefy. Ewwwwwwwww!
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Why is it that the same personality quirks are taken as crazy and stalky by some, while loveably wacky by others? Is there some litmus test for this, so I stop wasting my time?
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now I'm blogging what I'm eating, whoa.
Still literate as of 9/29/2000 12:20:01 AM
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just what I needed...another dorkblog.
Jeepers, creepers, I last used my peepers on 9/29/2000 12:24:59 AM
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My trip photographs, they're better than expected. Now to get them all organized, it's only been a year!
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Thursday, October 12, 2000
12:02 AM
 all the rage on the Backstreet Boys bulletin boards. How meta is this? Is the guy joking that I look like I'm pushing 15, 'cause I'm pushing *gulp* 30 (it's so hard to detect tone online)...I was being ironic when I said:
"In the bathroom at Burger King, proudly wearing my Backstreet Boys crown."
The picture in question:
It originally appeared in this post in I am...
Then there's this post, on another BSB board.
Well, I'm big on pimpin', so wait 'til they get a load of this:
I am...pictured with AJ from the Backstreet Boys. May 1999.
Heck, I was even complimentary about the Backstreet Boys in concert
It hadn't even occured to me that I'd start to get traffic from that picture, when I haven't had much from all the times I've slagged their label as a big, corporate, churner of pop crap and eater of dreams.
Maybe I should find that picture of me (well my feet and hand) with Joey Fatone's glitter suit. Should've put it up on eBay.
By the way kids, the new, legal spelling is *NSYNC. Of course, why should you get it right when People magazine can't?
[ link to this ]
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8:48 PM
completely wiped out after a really rough week at school. Having the Pagemaker software at home will be a big help, though. Instead of only being able to do my work twice a week for two hours in a faraway lab and hoping I finish, I can do it bit by bit at home and stop pulling what precious little hair I have out.
I'll leave you with some food for thought that I'd been thinking a lot myself (see ), but that Kristin put better: the suggestibility of women in regard to PMS, or PMDD, as they're calling it now. It's just the most recent attempt to keep women medicalized, rather than deal with the prevailing social problems that are the true root of our collective dissatisfaction. In the '60s and before, women were put on uppers and downers in order to keep them in line. I guess we've been getting uppity again.
Also, here's my latest Photoshop project, due tomorrow, on masks and channels. Neato stuff...now if I can just put it all together:
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9:04 PM
such a schoolgirl. I got a 98 on my Word test Tuesday. It was really simple, actually. We just had to replicate a flyer with graphics and a bulleted list from a full-size handout with step-by-step instructions on the back. Well, duh.
In fact, I might get the other 2 points back, since several people had a weird problem with the third bullet coming out a different size than the first two. Hee hee.
My only fear in that class is that I'm going to slack off and fall behind all of a sudden when it gets hard, say when we start using Access, which I haven't used much. It could even turn the corner on Excel, since I don't really care for the feel of spreadsheets. Just don't like 'em.
I've already turned in one homework assignment late, for half credit (it was only worth 10 points out of 1000) and have another to turn in late that was due Tuesday. I did get full credit for the two labs I turned in on Tuesday. Not that any of that matters, as we were given a silly extra credit quiz worth five points. It covered what she'd just lectured on and was open book/note, no less! She gave it to us just for being there, since so many people ditched today.
This prof seems pretty friendly and is an actual rocket scientist. She learned my name/face pretty quickly and gives me an extra flash of recognition since the 96 last week and the 98 today. I just imagine her being surprised and disappointed if/when I slip behind. Of course, I'm inclined to like her because she just has something Canadian about her, I can't put my finger on it.
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9:16 PM
so tickled by my Curious George mug. The three middle sections spin, thus the hands holding a chick coming out of George's neck.
I bought it at Century 21 in New York in my last shopping spree. Several people had insisted I'd love the place, but I really didn't believe how good the prices were, nor that they'd have clothes in my size.
I'm still loving my thermal pants and practically live in them. I also bought an ultrapale green 1940s dad sweater top with eyelets down the placket, a chocolate brown chenille sweater, a white shirt and lilac vest to wear while job hunting (*ahem*, those are still in pristine condition) and these great, tacky people hangers (they have clothes on) with leather motorcycle jackets and a rose tattoo on their big boobies. I don't think I ever remembered to send one to Fang.
I also bought a ton of baby stuff for one of my coworkers -- all of this and more for a mere $140. Amanda, who dragged me there, got Calvin Klein rainboots (they look like Stormtrooper boots) for $10.
[ link to this ]
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Wednesday, October 11, 2000
6:47 PM
with Loobylu and Derek -- so happy to find like minds online. Why, just reading this interview with Loobylu, I discovered that she can't drive, either and also counts Harold & Maude as one of her favorite movies.
It's not about popularity, but of connecting. I give, the web gives back. It's karmic, really. Looby's a great example. Just when I find her via Derek, she finds me goddess-knows-how and writes to say she likes my stuff and hopes it's ok if she writes, since I said I liked to write like-minded folks when I stumble upon their sites. What are the odds, dearies?
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6:57 PM
now the proud owner of the Adobe Publishing Collection, so I can finally do my Pagemaker homework at, well, home. It's none too soon, too, since one of the lab aides tracked me down after seeing me log in and leave. See, Pagemaker isn't installed in my department's lab on the campus I attend Monday and Wednesday.
It's closer to me, I only have one 90 minute class and so it's the only time I can do labs and still get home by 2:30, when The Boy gets home from school. So, I log in to my department's lab, then go down to the Graphics lab, where my instructor got special permission for a few of us in this town to use Pagemaker, but only during one professor's lab hours.
Luckily, these are a fairly good fit, but if I don't finish, I have to wait either 2 or 5 days for more access, or try to do my work in my beginning computers class on Tuesdays. I couldn't do that this week because we had a test.
She basicaly thought I was cheating -- logging into the lab and then going to do something else. I wish I had all the time in the world to lollygag around campus, just logging into the lab and not needing desperately to do my work. It's not like when I went here before and you could log in and you'd get your hour of credit no matter what. Now, quite logically, you must log back out to receive credit.
The only problem with that is, since I am actually doing my work in another lab, on another part of the campus, down two flights of stairs and way out past auto shop, I often forget in my rush to catch the bus to go back to my department's lab and log out. I've done about 8 or 9 hours of lab for which I've not received credit as a result, so the last thing I want is to get hassled by the lab aide who presumes I'm going off to take a nap. If I was, I'd only be cheating myself, since I've paid for the lab time in my department, for a lab I never use!
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7:21 PM
missing Muni, which is so, so wrong.
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8:30 PM
procrastinating by reading JournalCon accounts. Sometimes I wish I'd stayed in New York because a) it's New fucking York, baby, b) it's close to Boston, DC, Montreal and so much more, c) I could get around easily, without feeling like a freaky freak freak, d) some of my favorite journallers (plus I have at least two regular readers) are in that area and e) I coulda gone to JournalCon.
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11:58 PM
terribly amused by this picture of Salem, which I just found while going through the archives:
He looks so pissed.
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Tuesday, October 10, 2000
1:13 PM
starting to think I'll never be on MTV. That's OK, though, because my favorite tacqueria was last night. It is, apparently, also the fave of Travis of Blink-182, as I learned on their MTV journal last night. Glad to see somebody from The Empire made good.
Never fear that I was wasting time that could be better spent on homework. I was soaking my feet in Epsom salt in a vain effort to make them feel a little less like sausages bursting out of their casings.
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Monday, October 09, 2000
12:41 AM
not sure why I get on these mailing lists [rude, bracketed remarks, mine]:
FROM: plkmn2001@yahoo.com (spam this jerk, please)
SUBJECT: AMAZING PENIS ENLARGEMENT BREAKTHROUGH!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
AMAZING PENIS ENLARGEMENT BREAKTHROUGH! Finally, an all-natural way to lengthen and strengthen your cock.
Penis Pros has created the ultimate penis enlargement program. Rare herbs cultivated high in the Andes of Peru provides sexual
power that has been untapped until we brought them to the masses worldwide. We guarantee these pills will make you the stud you deserve to be. [Ummmmm, shouldn't that be that your partner deserves? That kind of coded language freaks me out, man...appealing to that false sense of entitlement the most misogynist men have and emphasizing penis size over actually trying to please one's partner...not that many men don't need enlarging...don't get me wrong. I apparently got spoiled.]
ALL NATURAL PENIS ENLARGEMENT - 100% SAFE! Penis Pros [because you don't want to trust your member to a bunch of ding dongs].
[ link to this ]
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7:36 AM
not fit for human consumption these days. Saturday was a relative whirlwind of human contact for me. I was spacey and couldn't carry on a conversation for the most part.
I wonder, sometimes, if it's the whole web thing. They say we're getting more shy as a whole, due to such a heavy reliance on so many forms of communication that aren't face-to-face.
Also, because I'm writing so much of late, I feel all the more like I'm talking at people and not with them. It doesn't help that I'm so self-centered ("Well, who the fuck else should I be centered on?!" is my usual response to that).
This isolation has got to change.
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7:43 PM
covered in bites of some sort. I must be really tasty, because my left arm has 13 bites, three on my ring (ha! no rings there, baby) finger alone. I'm not sure if it's from the hostel or from being out on the patio at the show the other night.
I've developed lots of new topical/skin allergies in recent years, so not only must I wear 18k gold if any, all insect bites become huge, hot, raised, red patches.
Really, between playing Connect the Dots with the bites and How Taut Can Skin become with my hideously swollen feet (huge to begin with, mind you), I'm really a vision of loveliness tonight.
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8:21 PM
not only a bad daughter, I'm a terrible granddaughter as well. My grandmother called to tell my mother that she's upset that my brother and I never call her. Why is it that people who treat you like shit are the most offended when you don't torment yourself by contacting them more than is necessary?
Her side would be that I think I'm too good for them because I'm half white. Yeah, that's it. It's not the hitting or the constant put downs of my mom because she's white and fat or the feeling like my every move is being scrutinized. Obviously, all the pressure makes me as reserved as possible because, no matter what, she finds offense at something I say or do or don't say because I'm being as quiet as possible in order to avoid trouble. I wonder why my stomach is in knots whenever I'm there.
Worst of all, my mom buys into the guilt trip (Pamie, a huge Vuitton collection is packed, plus steamer trunks) and discourages me from contacting her family, even the cousins my age who had nothing to do with my mom being disowned. My favorite cousin, who I grew up with and who is less than a year older than me, asks me to stay with him every time I go back east for a visit.
But I can't, because he's from the white side and I'm not supposed to want to talk to any of them because of one man's actions 29 years ago. Despite the facts that he accepts me in all the complexity that is Erica, or that I don't have to perform for him, or that he's just as brown as I am (he's biracial also, and his older daughter is half black, what a racist, huh?), or most importantly of all since my father died -- he is the only family member who acknowledges the abuse and doesn't tell me I'm "starting something" or making it up.
So pardon me if I can't warm up to relatives who have always judged me; tried to tell me who I am, instead of paying attention long enough to find out, focussed their attention on the color of mine and my relatives' skin, rather than on the abuse that tore me apart; and who, to this day, treat me like a five year old.
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8:41 PM
such a procrastinator. I am going back to work now, after a break to heat up the lasagna for everyone and eat some myself. I finished two of my Word labs and have one more to do. I also have to get up at the butt crack of dawn to get to school early so I can print all my assignments out and do my PageMaker assignment, due tomorrow. I was supposed to do my lab today, but I was too tired and hadn't gone to school anyway.
If I could just get my printer to work, I could do everything tonight and leave at my regular time tomorrow. The PageMaker trial doesn't allow you to save, so there's no point in my doing it at home. I could do it and do a print screen, but it's a two hour assignment and I run the risk of the computer crashing part way through. I guess that would be the same if I printed it at home, too, but at least I'd be here with all night to get it done, when I won't have enough time in the lab tomorrow.
I'm going to try unplugging all my parallel devices and hooking the printer up directly to see if it works. I have no idea what the problem is, otherwise.
I didn't go to my Flash class this morning (I couldn't move when I woke up, as all swollen parts were even more so) and have to do two more lessons (I did two and a half this morning) and some sort of project on my own with animation. Those were all due today, I just hope he accepts them on Wednesday.
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9:03 PM
trying to work, anyway, but everyone's coming in the kitchen (the new computer is in the breakfast nook, just off of the kitchen) every five minutes, or hollering at me, or reminding me to call my grandmother, or blasting the fucking TV like it's Skymotherfuckingwalker sound, or loading the dishwasher, or asking me what they can have for dessert, ad infinitum.
It's a wonder I made it through junior college the first time, since no one gets the concept of homework and how I have to do it. I end up working late into the night (for which I am later nagged about and on which most problems are blamed), so that I am exhausted and pass out before, during and after school.
Maybe I should try to nap now and wake up three or four hours early for school and get things done then.
...
As an aside to the above, I hate my fucking beginning computers book, as we're expected to type the documents ourselves from the book. They appear at about 70% size and the book is huge, so it won't fit into a copy clip or stand and I don't have any desktop room. Bending over and straining my back to read the teeny tiny text is more than half the work.
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Sunday, October 08, 2000
7:31 PM
convinced I don't get couples. In college, I felt surrounded by them and now it's the same, but more so, since they're damn near all married -- Jennifer, Dorothy, John and nearly everyone I went to high school with.
I used to marvel and kvetch then about not ever having had a boyfriend. At 29, it's even more unusual. Oh, I've dated. A couple of them referred to me as their girlfriend at the time. I've progressed, I guess, but am always a few steps behind the pack in this one regard.
I'm not criticizing the idea, I just can't fathom it. Especially the married part. Forever, wow. I've kicked out many a man after his, uh, work was done because I couldn't stand a minute of their idiotic, pseudomasculine bullshit or the attempts to suppress or ignore my strong will and intellect, or because they were just dumb as a box of rocks, no insult intended to rocks.
Most of all, there's the inability to have a relatively intelligent conversation with a man. Few are smart enough and the ones who are seem to revel in beating my ideas down, as if they're supposed to do all the talking and I'm supposed to do the listening. Friends criticized me for the whole Eric thing, but I suppose a large part of the reason it dragged on so was that we had incredible conversations -- he could keep up with me and never tried to "beat" me. It wasn't a contest, but, rather, an exchange of ideas.
Mostly, though, I've fucked a lot of losers I didn't take seriously, fallen for a lot of intelligent, funny, often kind men who just didn't see me that way and wondered when I might find both. At once. In the same person.
Sometimes I wonder if I'm cold-hearted, since I've never really loved any of those men (with Eric, it was the lack of opportunity to give it a go that drove me nuts). Maybe I'm not capable of it, maybe I should be focusing on my Work with a capital W.
It seems to me that women who want to fulfill their destiny as artists, writers, creators, etc. have to choose, while men do not. I guess I always pictured myself marrying Mr. Mom, or at least someone who shared the little realities -- childcare and chores -- and who, though creative himself, would not be threatened by my talent and intelligence. I don't make a very good second banana, but there's no law against co-bananas.
[ link to this ]
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7:33 PM
having a breakdown, basically. I haven't had this raw nerve feeling since shortly after I moved out to college.
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8:43 PM
exhausted, but relatively sated after a nice Saturday with friends. I needed some peer group interaction. Making friends at a new school is a slow process, how I'd forgotten.
I spent the day with Jennifer, who I considered one of my best friends in high school. Even though she was math and science smart and I was word smart (OK, so she was both, lucky!), I always felt I fit with her, if not the larger clique. I always got frustrated and felt excluded, so I tended to clique hop, but I always felt Jennifer was glad to have me around.
She's the first person from high school that I've seen since I returned to Southern California. After 10 years, you can't help but wonder if the person's going to be very different, if you're still going to like them and vice versa.
Jennifer is still smart, sharp and funny as can be. We saw "Meet the Parents" and then hung out at her place. It was a double flashback, since she lives near where I went to college. Come to think of it, I live where she went to college, too.
A few days ago, she warned me that she had seven rats, in case I might be squeamish about such a thing. She added that they were quite different than subway/gutter rats -- clean and altogether cuddly and furry. The manager of my apartment building in San Francisco had rats, so I wasn't completely put off by or unfamiliar with the idea of someone having them as pets.
Indeed, they weren't all brownish blackish gray and their pink tails and bodies didn't look like they were covered in motor oil, like those of street rats. They seemed rather adorable and cuddly, actually, similar to hamsters, but less furry, leaner and with long tails. It's amazing how much their hands look like tiny, little human hands. I didn't hold one, but I did pet their backs and scratch between their little ears.
We talked and laughed and caught up, though there are many inbetween years to catch up on. She showed me her wedding pictures, which were done beautifully. Later, at dinner, I showed her my travel pictures. Her husband is nice and gets bonus points with me for liking soul food!
Somehow, I neglected to take pictures of Jennifer and her rats, so you'll just have to settle for a bizarre assortment from the rest of last evening and this morning. I'm not posting any pictures from the actual show, not that they turned out very well at all, until John gets first pick for his site.
My giant, scary moon face. I was trying to get myself with the big bulletin board atop the club in the backround. It didn't work. Still, you get to see how red my hair is. I am no longer "Muslim" this week, as I straightened my hair Saturday morning.
I don't know exactly what this is, but the right side looks like electric blueberries. I think it's the first picture I tried to take once the band went on. Since there was no stage, they were on the same level as the crowd, so it was hard to see them. This was one of those Hail Mary, camera over my head shots. Oh well.
The club was right downtown, surrounded by skyscrapers. I had no idea there were any clubs in that area, "L.A." shows are usually in Hollywood.
The back patio, taken as we left. The picture actually came out even darker, so I lightened it up a bit. The patio was really great when we first got there, but in the 15 minutes it took for me to pee and get a beer, the entire place filled up, since it was time for John and the band to go on.
I neglected to take pictures of the great, screened-in porch, the house itself and even my room, but there I was this morning with the camera in the bathroom. I really liked the floor tile...
and, apparently, the roof tile. Here's the view from the hostel bathroom.
In the bathroom at Burger King, proudly wearing my Backstreet Boys crown.
When I got home, my mom was getting ready to see Eleanor, a one woman show, in L.A. One of the friends she went with just came back from France. She brought my brother French Pokemon cards, a desktop Eiffel Tower for mom and a teeny Eiffel Tower keychain for me.
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