Monday, November 30, 2009

Because we all want detachable hands!

I told myself I'd clean my room this weekend. Make my bed. Take the contents of my cleaned-out purses and put them away instead of littering my floor. Instead, I twisted the sheets up even more, to the point where the actual sheet is now lying on the floor and my covers are knotted and clumpy, as I spent a good majority of the weekend lying in bed, watching Heroes, mashing the pillows behind me, trying to figure out what my superpower would be if they were correlated to my personality (I think I decided on a empathic mimic).


Here we have another fun IM conversation with super awesome friend that shows you just how mature I really am. 






9:14
me 
"It's weird. Both of my action figures have detachable hands. I'm not sure what that's suggestive of... You could put Sylar's hand on Spock"

9:16
super awesome friend
hahah

9:17
me 
it made me laugh so hard

9:18
super awesome friend 
why do they both have detachable hands?  that's weird

9:18
me
no idea

but yea, it's weird
...sylar has an interchangeable "shooting hand"
9:24
super awesome friend 
do you own it?

slashwant it?
9:24
me 
i dont own it

im googling it to see why they have extra hands
but sure i'd take it ;)
9:25
super awesome friend  
no i am not buying it for you

9:25
me
it'd go well with my star wars ones back home

haha
worth a shot
i plan, one day, to have a desk where i put them all
inspired by the editing station at my h.s. internship
9:26
super awesome friend  
and one day you will!

9:26
me
haha

even if it's only at home
haha
okay... so spock has an extra hand to replace the "vulcan salute hand"
9:27
super awesome friend 
hahhahah hilariousssssss

9:27
me 
i know right

lame
toys r us doesn't carry sylar action figures
you mean a toy store doesnt want to promote a head cutting serial killer>
no way
9:30
super awesome friend 
probably like newbury comics would

ahh you don't know that
umm some specialty store place would
9:31
me 
haha

i was just laughing at the fact i even looked at toys r us for it
9:31
super awesome friend 
hahahahah seriously

9:31
me 
if i wanted it that badly, i can get it off amazon

9:31
super awesome friend  
i can see how you would have

9:32
me 
wait, on amazon, why is hiro $3.99 and sylar $10.99

lame
9:33
super awesome friend  
because sylar is more sought after?

9:33
me
peter is $9

haha mohinder is only $2.89



Yes, I am 9 years old.

oh, and that first quote, the action figure one, comes from Zachary Quinto's Ellen interview . seriously. hilarious.

Sunday, November 29, 2009

This is usually the part when people start screaming

I've recently re-fallen in love with Zachary Quinto/Spock/Sylar. I know that this is unreasonable for many reasons.
1. he's a "movie star" slash "celebrity"
2. he's a bit older than me, but hey, Age Ain't Nothin' But a Number
3. he, well, let's just say those love scenes of his? I wouldn't be worried about him going home with them.
4. As Sylar, he'd cut open my head as a means of foreplay
5. As Spock, he's too emotionally detached... though I bet those ears are really sensitive.

Needless to say, I'm intrigued. The whole "bad boy" thing always gets me. The unobtainable. The danger. The mystery.






photos belong to NBC and Paramount


That being said, I have a friend who has similar features and even speech patterns. Both are kinda hairy and pretentiously hot. The weird thing is that I was rewatching Heroes Season 1 (before it got ridiculous), and the first time Sylar makes an appearance, I get an IM chime. It's my friend, the ZQ doppleganger. Creepy, really. He asked me to take him to the airport... one of my friends, afraid I'll get sucked back into my old crush on him, was afraid he was taking advantage of me and my inability to say no when people need me.



6:15
me
yea I know, but I also try to remember that if I'm there for them, maybe they'll be there for me

PLUS ES looks like zachary quinto and I just watched star trek again
and am rewatching heroes
which was really creepy because the first time he showed up since i started rewatching them is when ES IM'd me
weird
6:17
protective (in a really good way) friend
hahahahahahahah

that is hilarious reasoning


I'm a sucker for dark and brooding, and sometimes come up with really interesting excuses.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Hair is only a Big Thing if you have Big Hair

My hair has always been a "thing" with people. When I was little, I had dirty blond curls that slowly darkened as I got older. I mean adorable. I was a good looking kid. Then I went through my tomboy phase, and bye-bye hair. I was at the salon one day and she cut it too short, and I just kind of went with it. I was mistaken for a boy more than once, was teased in 5th grade (my worst year ever) that I was gay, and basically had a white girl 'fro. But not a Justin Timberlake 'fro, with the cute tight curls. No. For some reason the curls disappeared and my hair just grew up. Or maybe it was just so short there was no curl, it was just so thick and plentiful that it gave the assumption I had longer hair than I did. Then I got some sense and grew it out.

Now, at this point, I didn't like wearing my hair in a ponytail, and was constantly being told I should try. So I do, and then never wear it down. The opposite happens. "Why don't you wear your hair down?" This has happened my entire life. I do one thing, stubbornly refuse to do anything else, finally give in and realize they were right, and then not go back. Enter new suggestion. My hair is just a big thing for me. My confidence level for the day is relatively decided by the look of my hair. It's one of the few things I can control (well... my hair has a mind of it's own, but most days it cooperates with me). 



Yea, they had Photo Day at school where you could have a "photo shoot" with friends... this was my "girl group" at the time, in our *NSYNC-style pose

After I went through my awkward ponytail phase, I scrunched my wet hair and wore it down. Occasionally I would throw it up in an upside down knot, with curls resting on top of my head, but it was so short I usually just wore it down. I highlighted it with blond to "accentuate the curls," but otherwise it was all natural. It became a triangle. See, the outermost layer of my hair is super curly, the middle wavy, but the inner layer, by my neck, is straight. So the straight, under pieces would mar the curly look I had going. And the whole thing would frizz. 


CURLS! TRIANGLE! GIANT BRA!

Right before my 18th birthday and Prom (they were on the same day, gah), I finally gave in to my sister and let her straighten my hair. Wow. I looked like a new person. The next day at school, I sat at our usual table, and none of my friends even recognized me. At this point, I was one of the two anchors for our morning announcements as well. Which means the entire school saw my face every morning. Shock. I loved all the attention and praise I was getting for it, and kept it going.


18th Birthday, right after I learned the magic of a straightening iron

Insert awkward phase where I grow out my hair and struggle to learn how to use a straightening iron. Insert awkward phase where I'm in England and don't re-color my hair (which is now pretty blond thanks to years of highlights) and have 2 inches of roots. 


Drinking Absinthe cus I'm cool like that... notice the one piece of hair that sticks straight out.

When I get back to the States, I return my hair to it's natural brown, acquire the "swoop", and by this point have trained my hair to straighten.


PS this guy, George, was British and sounded like Jude Law and I might have loved him... And I think I had too much swoop going on here

I get an influx of compliments on my hair and am finally happy with it. Straight, brown, and long. Then I cut it, because it's 3 inches of split ends, and why not cut 3 more? I get a pseudo-50's flip and end up loving it.

before and after I got it cut

And then what happens? "Why don't you wear your hair curly?"

So this weekend, I did. I was on set all weekend, exhausted, running on little sleep and lacking the energy to blow dry and straighten my hair. And sets are dirty, so what's the point of spending all the time and energy, frying my hair, when it'll just go up anyway? So I let it go. I came home, took a shower, greased my hair with frizz-ease and mousse, and went to sleep. When I get to set the next morning, I get this:
"Wow, you got your hair done!"
"Did you get a perm?"
"Look at you, all dolled up."
and so on.


on set this weekend

It's ironic, since when it's straight, that's "doing my hair," but people never realize that. Or just how curly my hair actually is. And you'd think, 4 years of straightening would calm it down. Nope. If anything, it's curlier now than it was then. 


most recent straight

Everyone loves it curly, but I can't stand the frizz or the sheer volume of it when it is. But I finally learned, somewhat, how to do it curly and be able to manage it. Sort of. So maybe, finally, I'll start mixing it up. 

Doubtful.


Time to find out if my Essay Bullshitting skills are as Good as they once were

35. Apply for the DGA AD Trainee program

Well. I did it. Completed a task. 

For those not in the know, not proficient in film jargon and acronyms, here's a quick breakdown:
DGA = Director's Guild of America = Union for Directors, Assistant Directors, etc
AD = Assistant Director, the one in charge of time management, actors, and organization on set. Among a million other things.
DGA AD Trainee Program = a prestigious program designed to "train" young AD's in a professional, on-set environment. It is highly competitive (about 12 out of 1500 applicants are accepted), but completion of the program equals eligibility to join the DGA as a 2nd AD.

The application process is similar to that of applying to college or any other competitive, worthwhile program. First, you submit an application, complete with work history, resume, and essays. The thing about this program, though, is attention to detail and following directions. If it says 1in. margins, they better be 1in. margins. Which means when they asked for either the last 5 jobs or all your jobs in the last 5 years, whichever is a longer period of time, every job better be on there. Including volunteer positions. Mine was around 5 pages long, 4 per page. What can I say, I get bored easily.

The application due date was a postmarked date of Nov 20. I went to FedEx Nov 19 on my way home from work. I like to cut things close.

But it's been sent off. Now I'm just waiting. Early next year they whittle it down and have group interviews, then individual interviews, then they choose. 

Now it's just a waiting game.

Monday, November 23, 2009

Chainsaw Massacres at Texan Houses of Wax

#87. Respond to plinky once a week.


Describe a scary stretch of road you've traveled. 


  • If life were a movie, we would have died

  • Day 2 of our cross-country road trip. We planned to spend the night in Amarillo, TX but stopped in OKC to sightsee/eat dinner/visit a friend. As we're driving that last stretch of highway for the night, our caravan partner called and asked me to pull over for a restroom break (I was leading). This is Texas, with no major towns intersecting I-40 until Amarillo, so well-lit gas stations and such were not plentiful. Thinking it's an uber emergency, I pull off at the next exit where there's a gas station sign. Big mistake. The gas station is a run-down shack lit by a single light, nobody around. Think House of Wax. At night.
    We didn't even get out but turned around and gunned it. Attempting to get back on the highway, we make a turn that doesn't actually lead us to the well-paved, lit highway but rather to a smaller, 2-lane, run-down road that runs parallel to said highway. That highway that smirked at us as we kept down this sketchy road, teasing us with it's proximity but lack of ways to get there. Finally, a few miles later, we found a path to that ever-present highway and booked it out of there.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

I hate that my excitement now comes from cooking, shopping, and restaurants


I've been busy on my 101/1001 list here lately. I'm excited because if I get around to the post office before it's too late tomorrow, I will officially complete a goal. One that actually required work. None of this "Smile at a stranger once a day" crap (yea, I know, it's on my list, it's not crap, but it's much easier to complete than say, filling out an entire application, complete with essays, transcripts, and deadlines... which apparently I crave because not a day after I finished putting that application together, I decided that I'm going to apply to grad school and fill out yet another complicated application). But more on this tomorrow, when I complete the task.


First up. 
12. Have a "family dinner" once a month
Alexis has started a weekly tradition of these at our apartment that tremendously helps me with this goal. When I first mentioned the idea to my two roommates, I could tell they were less than enthused about the idea. Particularly Wes, who won't cook for me no matter how much I beg, and then Alexis rarely actually cooks and is usually working. But then her mom came in town and we had taco night and all of a sudden, Alexis changed her mind. This might be partially due to her desire for a certain boy, and dinners seem to be her new excuse to invite him over. What usually happens is this: Alexis tells people to bring specific items, buys the items to be provided by us, and then I cook. (Usually with help). While swatting everyone else out of our moderately sized kitchen and to the other side of the "bar" area.

First was taco night, where I got out of cooking but ate a ton.
Second was pasta night, where I browned the meat and we had spaghetti. Alexis made puppy chow for dessert.
Third, this week, we had Breakfast for Dinner, which included pancakes, bacon, juice, and again, puppy chow (it's made out of cereal... and chocolate, peanut butter, powdered sugar, and butter... but CEREAL)

Wes makes bacon almost everyday, whether in his extensive breakfast or when he has said breakfast as his dinner (he can only make like 3 meals but they always smell so yummy), so I asked if he would make the bacon while I made the pancakes... a reasonable request, right? Considering he DOES live there and partake in these dinners... so who made the bacon? Me. But Beth helped me by making the pancakes (which is just as well since I made us pumpkin pancakes last week - from TJ's, <3 - in the pan and they didn't turn out the best... she claims that she was only better because she had the griddle, but whatevs). So bacon. And what did I do? Splash bacon grease on my foot.

Hot, sizzling, burning bacon grease. On my foot.
Ouch.

And then what did Wes do? Steal half the bacon.
Boys.




Second.
17. Try 8 New Restaurants
The scene: Last night, Westwood, Jerry's Deli.
Alexis texted me yesterday, asking if I wanted to third wheel on her dinner with her college friend/best friend's ex/unrequited love's bestie/too many descriptions, and after numerous texts of "are you sure? you don't mind? will he be mad? I don't want to be a bother" later, I was finally convinced I would not be a nuisance and was, in fact, being more of a nuisance asking those questions than I would be while attending dinner. I just didn't want to be in the way... they've been friends awhile and I wasn't sure if they were going to talk about how he's not over his ex/her best friend, who has another boyfriend. Apparently I'm just neurotic. But I have this thing where I don't like to invite myself (not that I was, because I didn't even mention wanting to go before being included with an invitation), and don't like to overstep myself. It can be my best friends and I still expect them to actually ask me if I want to come. This annoys some people because they think I assume I'm invited when they talk about it in front of me, but with others, they get annoyed when it was supposed to be this super small thing and all of a sudden there's 30 people there and nothing gets accomplished and everything gets too complicated. So yea, neurotic. So if you want me there, invite me.

Anyway, dinner. We met there after our respective workdays ended. Parking sucked, as it always does in LA, and took me a good 15 minutes of left turns and circling the block before I gave up and turned in the next parking deck I saw. Gah. $2 for every 15 minutes. And the validation we so thankfully got at Trader Joe's was only good for an hour (The Americana and The Grove are much better about this), so I had to pay another $6 on top of the $3 for the Edamame crisps at TJ's... saving me a total of like $5. On top of the $15.50 I spent at dinner. Woot. We ate at Jerry's Deli, which is like Canter's, which is basically, your classic Jewish deli. Complete with free pickles!

I've come to find the wait-staff at both of these are sub-par, though. And usually have bad hair. At Canter's, the guy had the Newman fro... the guy last night was just trying too hard. And I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. Alexis and Michael were quick to hate him, but I know how much service jobs suck, and make excuses for bad service. In retrospect, there's a reason he works Wednesday nights, when the two-story deli is deliciously empty. He checked in on us too often, like he was rushing us out of the emptiness, but then was late in taking our empty plates and delivering us the check. On top of that, which I excused, he was generally cold in his stifled conversation and failed to mention the special that was advertised at the door, which Michael could have gotten, and even gave him the opportunity to mention, but no.

The food was what you'd expect, but not bad. I finally tried matzo ball soup, which one of my friends has been raving about since I met him last year and I might have to actually order it next time I go to a deli, or am sick.




Third
60. Take myself out on a date once a month
Everyone needs a little "me" time. I tend to relish mine. But with 40+ hour work weeks, plus an ample amount of travel time, on top of my new attempts at running, I don't have a lot of free time anymore, much less time for myself. This is where I become slightly "I want to have and eat my cake" because when I have too much alone time, I complain of loneliness, but when I don't have enough, I complain of that as well. So Saturday, after a lovely, relaxed morning of conversing with Beth, I took some time alone, and what better way than shopping? I went to a used music store in Silverlake, then the bank, then The Grove, where I walked around, ate alone at Chipotle, and people watched. Good times.




Fourth.
52. Buy one album for every 10 downloaded
I'm a sucker for old-school, used record stores. Especially the ones that smell dusty, have vintage posters hanging about, and operated by employees who are constantly judging you with their pretentious music tastes. No matter what I pick up, I immediately feel shamed. If it's a classic, it's why don't I already have it? If it's currently on the radio, I become one of "them," someone who only listens to mainstream music and doesn't "get it" or appreciate "good" music. I am neither of these. I am a connoisseur of music. I have no judgments (I can't really, considering Hanson is my personal favorite band), and I'll listen to almost anything. But that doesn't mean I'll actually spend money on it. Jonas Brothers? They have enough teenage girls to buy their albums. But if they're a musician I truly support, that's indie and not as well known, or I know I'll love every. single. song. I'll buy the album. Or, if I'm in a used record store where CD's sell for roundabouts of $5 because CD sales are dying.

The place: Rockaway Records on the edge of Silverlake, near where I used to live. I enjoy, every few months, going to the Starbucks across the street then perusing the racks of pathetically alphabetized albums, scavenging for deals. I usually leave, $50 less in my dwindling bank account, bag full of items in tow. This trip was no exception. Not having any specific cd's to look for, I picked up a live Ben Harper album and checked out the foreign and Criterion collections in the DVD department... His Girl Friday ($3), A Very Long Engagement ($6), The Curious Case of Benjamin Button - Criterion ($12), and Jules et Jim - Criterion ($20). Good deals... at least half off what I'd normally pay for each, and Criterion nonetheless.



Dwindling down the list. Well, not really. But sort of. A lot of them are partial, in progress completions, so I don't feel the same relief and euphoria of being able to bold the item, crossing it off the list, but it's a start. It's only been a month, not too shabby.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Autumn Leaves Under Frozen Soles

#87. Respond to plinky once a week.

              Autumn Leaves
The crisp cool air, swirling around you, wrapped in a coat and a scarf. The leaves as they turn from green to yellow to orange to red to brown, soaring through the air and collecting in a multi-colored leaf orgy on the ground. Bonfires and s'mores, the smoke twisting and rising into the star-lit night. Apple picking in the orchards, the sweet juices dribbling down your chin. The beginning of the winter holidays, the bittersweet ending of summer.

PS. Check out Paolo Nutini's Song "Autumn" if you've never heard of it ... absolutely beautiful


Saturday, November 14, 2009

In Which I Cover 3 Things in 1 Post


I recently saw this on MyLittleBecky (who is part of the Becky Club, which I am now officially a member! Woohoo!), and decided to take part.

drumroll... Handwriting


I write extremely small, so you'll have to click on the picture in order to read it (unless you have super vision, in which case, you're a superhero... or supervillain... and therefore my new best friend!).

In other news, the other night, after the Hanson concert (where I didn't get a t-shirt because all they had left in the one I wanted was an XL and I couldn't fathom spending $20 on a shirt that doesn't fit), I immediately came home and ordered...

A 100 monkeys shirt! I know... but my reasoning was that I already have TWO Hanson shirts (that I can still find) and ZERO 100 monkeys shirts, and seeing as how 100 monkeys are still in the land of indie and they're pseudo-friends of mine, I needed to support them. And yea, I could probably bug Marty and maybe swindle one from them, but whatevs, I don't mind spending money on a band I love ... especially since I get into shows for free ;). I'll probably still order the Hanson shirt eventually anyway. I also pre-ordered the 100 monkeys album. It's called Grape. Seriously, y'all. Check out this band. I don't know if I've promoted them enough. ;)

Apparently I like the wink. That's twice in a paragraph.

ANYWAYS. So I ordered the shirt on Sunday and waited anxiously all week for it. I got a notice on Monday that said it had been shipped, but thanks to Veteran's Day and the apparent slowness of the Postal Service of delivering packages from LA to another LA location, I didn't receive it until today.






Also, today is To Write Love On Her Arms day.
TWLOHA mission statement:
To Write Love on Her Arms is a non-profit movement dedicated to presenting hope and finding help for people struggling with depression, addiction, self-injury and suicide.  TWLOHA exists to encourage, inform, inspire and also to invest directly into treatment and recovery.

Along with ONE and TOMS, TWLOHA is one of the organizations/causes I believe in and fight for. If I ever got a tattoo (which I probably won't because I have a fear of needles and a fear of commitment), it would either be "ngi ne themba," which means "I have hope" in Zulu, or the word "love."

As TWLOHA day, I followed suit. And I urge you to do the same, regardless of the day.









Thursday, November 12, 2009

Like Jack Sparrow, I'm Cursed (but only when it makes sense to the plot)

It being November 12, I think it's safe to say I made it through another October 19-22 without a problem with my car.
Hopefully.
You never know, time may decide to play games with me and rewind itself just to screw with me. There will be another Daylight Savings Time, but instead of going back an hour, we'll go back a month. And it'll be just me. Back to October and my cursed week.

Let me break it down for you.

October 21, 2003
I was driving my then-boyfriend home from school (he was a year younger, cougar that I was), wasn't paying attention in the neighborhood, sped by a cop, had an "Oh shit" moment and slowed my ass down, but it was too late. He turned around, signaled his lights, and pulled me over. Bam. Ticket. 42 in a 25. The cop was oh-so-nice however, and knocked it down to 40 to me. Thanks. I played dumb, didn't know how fast I was going, didn't realize the neighborhood speed limit was 25, all the stops. I'm surprised he didn't "clock" me at 45 for my stupidity, which would've been reckless. To be fair, the neighborhood isn't your typical, houses lining every street, Edward Scissorhands neighborhood. It's somewhat hilly, and the houses are all on side streets. The main street is primarily empty of houses. Still 25.
Taught me not to date immature, younger boys who can't drive.
3 Nights of driving school with my Mom (and a lovely fine) later, complete with an end-of-school test that if you held the paper in just the right light, you could see through it. This was because the DMV, oh so savvy, put the answers on the test. So that when you check an answer, it tells you if you're right or not. Mom and I were too smart (and too good at cheating) for this, apparently. 100%, baby, and no points on my record!

October 19, 2004
It was a rainy day (as are common in Virginia in the fall), and I was driving home from school. I was checking my rearview, my side mirrors, etc but wasn't paying much attention to what was actually in front of me. When I looked forward, the bright red brake lights of the car in front of me were lit up. I slammed down on my own brakes, but the wet pavement, coupled with my habit of following too closely, led me to a slight fender bender. As in, the only damage was some paint transfer and maybe a cracked license plate. The cops were called but didn't even write a ticket. My lucky day. Insurance wasn't too happy, though. But again, no points on my record!

October 20, 2005
Freshman year of college. Wilmington, NC. I was on my way to a friend of a friend's house, where we were meeting before leaving for a Hanson concert - my first since 1998. I hadn't lived abroad yet, didn't have a GPS yet, and was still absolutely abysmal when it came to directions. My mom used to give me routes 30min out of the way to prevent me from getting on the Interstates (which I have since started calling freeways because in CA - LA especially, they're not really INTERstates but INTRAstates, because most are confined to this wonderful piece of land they call California, but no one says INTRAstates because it sounds too much like INTERstates and so everyone just says Freeway). So I get absolutely crazily lost, which living in LA has also taught me happens all the time and I no longer freak out about it, because a, I'm better with directions and figuring out my way around now, and b, I have a GPS (though it doesn't work half the time so saying I have a GPS isn't as accurate as saying I have a phone that sometimes tells me where to go but more often than not fails to open VZW Navigator when I most need it or just flat out dies on me, and I then coax what little battery power I can out of it to text a friend for general directions to a place I've never heard of and have never been to before). Digression. Sorry.
So on top of getting crazy lost, I'm at an intersection, again, not paying attention (this seems to be a problem) and don't notice the light has turned from yellow to red. Almost pulled out right in the middle of the intersection. Got a laid-on-honk, but no calamities.

October 21, 2006
At this point, I worked for the local TV news station, and was working the live evening news and nightly news broadcasts (that's right, if you lived in the Wilmington area, you saw my delightful camera work and didn't even know it!), but having that shift meant I was driving downtown at 4pm, then back to campus at 7pm, then BACK downtown at 10pm, and again to campus at Midnight. My gas fund was severely depleted (though not as much as it is now, driving from the much-hated Valley to Century City in Rush Hour everyday). It was on the way back from one such shift when, out of nowhere, my car stops. And I know I just said my gas fund was always running low, but the emphasis would be the word FUND, not TANK. I had gas. I always got it at the Carolina Petro on Kerr (pronounced CAR) and Market because if you brought your old coffee cup in, you got a cheap refill, and their French Vanilla Cappuccino machine was the shit. So gas wasn't the problem. Luckily, I was able to pull it over to the side, in the beginnings of a right turn lane and out of the way. Where I then sat, freaking out, calling my Mom and a Tow Truck, and one of my roommates (I had about 9 at the time... love on-campus housing) to come pick me up.

I don't remember what was wrong with the car, but this incident led me to believe I had a curse over my head, in my car, on or around October 20. I was convinced I would die in a car accident on some future October 21 when I forgot about said Curse and made the foolish mistake of getting in a car. It's like Final Destination.


August, 2007
As a reward for making the Deans List every semester of college, my Mom rewarded me with a new car. The old one - a green 1993 Honda Accord - wasn't reliable and my Mom spent all her time worrying about me driving it. Especially since I was a 4 hour drive away from home. And instead of getting another used car, that would rack up debts in maintenance, I got a brand new, red 2007 Nissan Versa. I named her Ruby.



"This is a walking post"
credit: Hither, with my camera, pretending to be paps and following me around

October, 2007-2009
Nothing. No major car problems.

I'm thinking the curse was on that particular car. Like maybe the previous owners were sad about having to sell it, so they chanted some nonsense that would only be in effect around October 20. Or maybe it's just 4 years of strange coincidences. Maybe I psyched myself out. But that still doesn't explain year 4, when the Honda just quit on me, because I'd completely forgotten about the curse until she broke down. And this isn't to say I haven't had other car issues - I had a flat tire with the Honda, some "no, I don't want to start" moments that I said were God's way of getting me to balance my checkbook, and even some run-ins in Ruby ... yay for LA, tight parking structures, and bad drivers. So either a lot of it was just circumstance, and the fact that the Honda was getting up there in miles (over 200,000) and I was still a new driver. Or my paranoia and stringing together of unrelated events to tell a good story. Or maybe the curse was real, and was either tied to that car, or is on a 4 years on, 4 years off deal, in which case, October 2011, I'm not driving.


I bring this up because a lot of my friends lately have had car problems. Alexis and curbs don't get along, and then Wes rolled down her window and it decided not to go back up. Hither was in an accident. Schackne's car was totaled. So was Mila's. Katie was rear-ended two nights ago. And Wes? His car was stolen. As in gone. From our parking garage. None of us understand it and now are afraid to park back there (not to mention it's super tight and I actually had a minor incident with the corner).

I'm lucky to have made it through my week unscathed

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

She'll Leave a Beautiful Corpse

I love these guys so effing much, and miss the Tuesday nights at 24k, miss watching this band grow and tighten musically, miss smuggling beer from backstage to the "VIP section," miss dancing with my banana friend, miss creating mosh pits at the front of the crowd (and pissing off camera wielders), miss "tiger, tiger," miss Ben's Tom Waits-esque growling on "Wasteland Too," miss this band.



Monday, November 9, 2009

When You Can't Get Through It, You Can Listen To It




After a stellar three act warm-up (Sherwood, Steel Train, and Hellogoodbye), an unusually quick set change (Hanson is notorious for running on "Hanson time," where "soon" can equal years), the trio of brothers took the stage, jumping straight to their instruments and into the song "Where's the Love". They began the song acapella but it wasn't long before the familiar riff came through the speakers and the boys were off. They kept the groove going with the AIDS Awareness anthem, "Great Divide," which had been so mercilessly teased during Hellogoodbye's set, and then "Get Up and Go," "Hey," and "You Never Know". Next was the tribute to their rock and roll roots, "Been There Before," with references to Johnny Cash and Otis Redding, where Taylor urged the crowd to sing the backing parts, followed by the haunting "This Time Around," which had my newly-reinvigorated-Hanson-fan-roommate squealing with excitement as Taylor crooned the line "Do you know why I die?" Finishing up the first act, the brothers played "World's On Fire," a song off their new EP, "Stand Up Stand Up," an collection of "we need to do something about the state of the world" songs. 



Returning from a short break, Hanson came back onstage to an acoustic setup - drummer Zac emerging from behind the kit and sitting up front on a cajon - where they continued with another song from the EP, "Carry You There." Next was the fun, lyric-tripping "Penny and Me," from the band's third studio album, "Underneath". What followed that had me almost on the floor. Isaac put down his guitar, Zac his percussion, and Taylor began the opening chords of my personal favorite, "A Song to Sing". The song is a simple arrangement - three-part harmonies with Taylor's haunting piano melodies - allowing the raw emotion, passion, and talent shine to through. It gives me chills everytime I hear it, and was definitely the highlight of my night. Especially since directly afterward, Taylor and Isaac left the stage to Zac (I was always a Zac girl), who took over brother Taylor's white piano for the song "Use Me Up" as a solo. His only song on lead the whole night (which is really a shame since he's in the driver's seat for half of "The Walk" album), Zac's soulful, passionate voice shined in the new song. I'm not going to lie, my legs turned to jelly and if it weren't for the support of my roommate, I might have slunk to the floor in happiness.


Peeking at the setlist that was taped to the sound mixer's board in front of us, we knew Taylor's solo would be next, but after Zac cleared the stage (he, too, told us of Taylor's turn next), it remained empty for a few moments, and then all three brothers traipsed back to their respective electric instruments. I guess Taylor changed his mind. 


This tour, Hanson has had the clever idea of allowing their fans to vote for and choose one song for the setlist each night. The band places 5 songs as options, with themes ranging from classic covers to rare Hanson songs. They've played "Don't Stop Believing," "Thriller," "I Want You To Want Me," the unreleased "Dream Girl," and Simon and Garfunkle's "Cecilia", among others. For Los Angeles, it was the Three Dog Night song "Never Been to Spain" - a fitting song for the band, whose roots are in Oklahoma, and one in which all three brothers share the lead.



Act Three continued with another new song, "Waiting for This," with the crowd chanting "Shout it Out!" at the appropriate moments, and then "Crazy Beautiful," before returning to their first album for the Isaac-led "Minute Without You". What followed was another of my favorite moments from the evening: a cover of the Beatle's "Twist and Shout," which had both my roommate and I twisting like crazy with excitement. They kept the energy up with "Lost Without Each Other," and then re-introduced themselves with "mmmbop," finally sating the crowd with the song teased by Hellogoodbye over two hours before. They finished out the set with the beating "Something Going 'Round", said their Thank You's, and left the stage. But as any concert-goer knows, there's always an encore. And Hanson is no exception. After an unusually short wait, the band was back on stage with the harmonica syncopation of "If Only," another crowd favorite.


As with the opening acts, during the final song of the night, the stage became a friendly jam session, featuring expected appearances by the members of Sherwood, Steel Train, and Hellogoodbye, but Weird Al could also be spotted dancing onstage, as well as Carrick from the band Everybody Else, who opened for Hanson last tour (and one of my personal top favorite bands).

Closing with "Gimme Some Lovin", the first song I ever heard at a Hanson concert, back in 1998, brought me full circle. Looking at the band onstage now, it's hard to believe they were once those fresh-faced, naive young brothers whose faces graced the walls of every teenage girl (including my own) in the late 1990s. The years of ridicule, struggles with their record label, young marriages and children, and eagerness to please their resilient fans - without whom the band would have shuffled off into one-hit-wonderdom a decade ago - have hardened their perky smiles, darkened their hair, and matured their music into something resembling 1970's rock and roll/folk (think The Doobie Brothers, Three Dog Night, The Eagles, and even The BeeGees).








Hanson, by the way, have partnered up with TOMS for the past few years. They co-host one mile barefoot walks ("Take the Walk ") before every show to help raise awareness for global poverty and needs - especially in Africa. For each person, for each mile, the band donates a dollar towards five different causes. Since they started counting, they've walked 28,201 miles. It was on one such of these walks (in Baltimore) my friend Hillary convinced Isaac to donate the shoes off his feet to a homeless man the mob ran by. I helped her edit the video: New Shoes. It's things like this, and the college tour they did a few years ago, promoting their new album and documentary, Strong Enough to Break, that detailed their struggles with their record label and decision to go independent - that keep Hanson relevant and important to their generation. They echo the concerns of their peers and encourage others to take action instead of just talking about it. And they do that by just simply walking.


Having grown up with the boys, their change in appearance is no shock to me. But friends of mine, not having seen the band since the late 1990s, are surprised to see that Taylor no longer looks like a girl, Isaac is actually kind of attractive (dare I say hot? My roommate certainly thought so), and Zac finally grew out of that nevous, hammy personality and into a more subdued, more confident one.



While they still play "mmmbop" at every show, they take a moment to thank the fans for more than a decade's worth of loyalty and devotion, and remind everyone just why they're there, shelling out hard earned money to see this band, this silly little band, year after year, tour after tour. The song has been lowered over the years, as the boys' voices finally dropped, and hardened to fit their maturing ages and sound. If, when the song had been released, it sounded as it does now, the story of Hanson and the stigma that surrounds them might be completely different. The boys play it with a freshness that does not imply that they've been playing this same song for the past 13 years. They recognize that this song allows them to continue to make music and though they may hate it (and the fact that no one knows the lyrics), they refuse to let it on, and so continue to play it. Though, to be fair, they hardly have to make an effort to perform the song. If Taylor so chooses, he can put the mic into the audience and let them sing the whole song (as I've seen him do on previous occasions).





Hosting a song-writing retreat every year called Fool's Banquet, Hanson has collaborated with (and set up collaborations between), Jason Mraz, Locksley, Everybody Else, Weird Al, Eisley, Bleu, Pat McGee, Stephen Kellogg, Kate Voegel, and many more. With Bono, Taylor's Tinted Windows bandmates (James Iha of The Smashing Pumpkins, Adam Schlesinger of Fountains of Wayne, and Bun E Carlos of Cheap Trick), and Ben Kweller as fans, Hanson are full of music industry street-cred... it's just the general public who hasn't seemed to catch a clue, and some Hanson fans seem to be okay with that. Sure, they could do without all the "mmmbop" jabs, but "Fansons" are under the belief that they're in on one of music's best kept secrets. These girls dealt with it once: costly tickets, over-saturation, having to watch their favorite brother on a jumbo screen from the lawn seats... But now the fans are more of a family, swapping concert stories and counting the shows on multiple sets of hands. If you know where to wait, meeting the brothers after a show isn't all that hard either. 


Gone are the days of writing the brothers' names on arms and faces with permanent markers, making elaborate signs and declarations of love, praying to one day meet and marry their favorite Hanson. Now, a decade later, the fans are in their 20's (though there are a few fresh faces, having recently discovered Hanson), some are married to their number 2 choice (a Hanson brother will always be their first love), and they care more about the music than the band's personal lives. (Most are even happy the boys found love and have families of their own... it certainly inspires their writing, and without which, "Never Let Go," Taylor's alleged song to his children and what some call his masterpiece, would cease to exist).



Hanson fans, loyal for 12+ years to a band with a stigma attached, are the exemplifiers of the line from "Almost Famous" that states: "They don't even know what it is to be a fan. Y'know? To truly love some silly little piece of music, or some band, so much that it hurts." And in a world of declining musical talent and passion, I'd say that's a good thing.


I once met Zac outside of a show in Baltimore (my second meeting), and, in a group signing/picture-taking bombardment, I offered up my tour lanyard from the 1998 Albertane Tour for Zac to sign. He took one look, sputtered a shocked "Oh Wow", and scrawled his name across the 10+ year old picture. Looking at that young, blond boy and then the same man, ten years later standing in front of me, it reminded me of how much we've all grown, and how much this man has influenced my life, and how I wouldn't have it any other way.

(Megaphone Photo is mine, all other photo credits go to chickswithgunsmagazine)

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