| No, I'm not goth |
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| 10:25pm 13/10/2009 |
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mood:  content
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Let me reiterate: I am not goth. Contrary to some, I have never been goth. And in this emo-dominated present day, I don't plan on becoming goth. But I do, from time to time visit gothish type bars, most prominently circa 2005 and once in 2009.
Probably mostly drawn in by the awesome industrial/triphop music you can't find in any typical Hollywood club, shortly followed by the desire to satirically lollygag around true, complete "weirdos" and then I suppose for the shock value of bringing new people to a club in which it is an encouraged, playful, bewilderment of stage antics such as light whipping, rope tying and other various obscure displays of "what the hell is going on?" Not that this was a legit goth scene, it was more of a capitalization on the fashion, music and Hollywood-centric club seekers who like busting out the pleather and chains. But it was, by far, the most unorthodox place I've attended multiple times and is still my basis for comparison to the "other" types of club scenes that aren't hipsters or elitists.
That said, much has changed since 2005, with me I suppose and the "scene" to those who actively follow it. Not that I did. But it seems like more of a ploy nowadays, even to an outsider; or maybe I've grown less adventurous and harder to entertain and am more concerned with logistical matters like finding seats and seeking alternatives to driving and paying parking.
One shocking factor was the amount of people versus my conception of an appropriate "going out" time. Is it more about the economy sucking, or is it normalcy and abundance of other clubs to attend--ones without a cover no less? I never, ever recall being at this place when there wasn't a full dance floor and VIP only to the (gasp) upstairs lair. It was deduced that being nocturnal and barely in school were factors into this tendency of showing up later. But then I reason, OK...no matter what kinda dance place I go to, I need to have drinks up in my system before even remotely attempting to approach a dance floor, while geared up in some questionable fashions no less. I certainly was not for drunk driving to the club at this early age, so it's not as if I had numerous drinks beforehand and immediately started getting my goth dance on while arriving at 12 only to be shoed out at LA 1:20 a.m. last call. So what is it?
Another weird difference: my overly cognizant drink purchasing now versus then. I clearly recall once buying a $23 double shot of Jager, whereas now I have two well drinks and put a cap on my spending. It's not weird that I have a budget now that I'm solely responsible for maintaining...rather, it's strange that this concept of oh-so-loose spending never crossed my mind as hedonistic at any point (nor was I concerned with empty calories).
And most unfortunately, it didn't even cross my mind to do my usual 'weird place so this requires completely ridiculous storytelling to those who choose to interact with me' thing I used to be so very good at and entirely thrive on. I have nothing remotely to small talk about with the people who choose to talk to me at these places, and I certainly don't seek anyone out (except for Mr. Damnit, but that's another story). But I remember going on, creating elaborate straight-faced story lines about putting myself through tattoo artist training school while living out of my Ford Pinto or equivalent absurdity just to see how far it could go or to get uninteresting people to leave me alone. This time around? It didn't even occur to me to do such a thing and when approached, I did the usual bullshit chit chat I would do in any bar, only this time became aware after the affect as to how much I smiled and was, conceivably, quite "pleasant" and well, not awkward as would be expected around this crowd.
Late night drunken dancing/lavish drink spending/creative bullshitting, where have you all left me? In 2005?
I don't need it to be the same rush it was, and never really put any emphasis on it being as such. Maybe I'll go back, when more people will be there earlier, when I can rest my mind from the tribulations of my taxing work week and just let got and have a feel for my surroundings. But then again, maybe not. It doesn't really matter to me either way, you just can't top some things and time periods. So even though the goth thing was never really my thing, with the 2 goth bars I've visited a whopping total of single digit times, it certainly won't be.
Watching The Crow tonight may or may not have been an influence on me revisiting my Saturday realizations. Not that that's "goth" either, but ah well. Yay the 90s.
I would say I could never be goth due to my tendency to overanalyze things. But maybe this in itself is proof to the contrary? |
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Read 4 - Post |
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| 10:08pm 24/08/2009 |
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mood:  accomplished music: British Sea Power - Blackout
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Dear 22 year old Lesley,
Remember when you were having that existential crisis and were trying to distinguish if at that point in life you were living a dream or in utter hell? Yeah, a few words on that.
That was, in fact, hell. Of course, that was hard to distinguish at that point, as everything wasn't so black and white (as it never is). But time lets you tell things, and I tell you, that was black and now is white, so to speak.
I'm a big fan of closure. It's good to know I got through a lot of the bad and things worked out for the best. Of course I still have things I'm working on for myself and for my life...
But damn, am I having such a good, challenging time figuring it all out.
Keep on keeping on,
25 year old Lesley |
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| Keep fishin' (for good jobs?) |
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| 09:47pm 29/07/2009 |
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mood:  infuriated
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I remember taking this seminar at school where we were taught the "FISH! philosophy." It's a management tactic derived from workers in Seattle, specifically the ones who transport fish from the trucks to the loading areas of markets by throwing them like an assembly line. Essentially, the philosophy is to hold a good attitude in the workplace. By modeling ourselves after these seemingly simplistic fishermen/market workers, we practice mentalities like not stressing the technicalities and maintaining enthusiasm and inner peace, no matter how mundane or infuriating the task.
I've thought a lot about this concept in general. But its relevance has been tested recently, as I've been dealing with bosses that have no practical knowledge of marketing, journalism ethics, reasonable deadlines, common sense, professionalism, sexual harassment...the list goes on. Of course, I do believe that attitude is extremely important when determining which direction you will your sanity to take.
After a particularly frustrating week, I've tried to zen myself out by applying this fish theory. But then tonight, where my distress with incompetence has climaxed to a point of infuriation, I realize an extremely important distinction between myself and those Seattle fish workers:
Their job is simply to fucking throw fish. |
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Read 1 - Post |
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| No patience. |
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| 09:48pm 19/07/2009 |
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I think I should clear some things up. I'm sorry if this sounds harsh, but in a way, I'm not. I've always held these thoughts, but it hasn't been until this month where they were so tested.
I have absolutely no patience for people who make excuses instead of making progress.
I have no patience for people who are hurtful toward their friends.
I have no patience for those who are not supportive of their friends' successes because they instead harbor resentment for the progress that they themselves don't even try to make.
I have no patience for people who think that they don't need to work at becoming healthy. Take your medication, travel to Europe, do whatever you need to do. Just as long as you understand that no one or no thing is going to will you out of your depression. You have to make up your mind and take responsibility to improve. And not to give up on yourself when it doesn't immediately work.
And I have no patience for people who don't embrace these or similar points regarding life and that everything must be worked for.
Getting functional is fucking hard, believe me I've been there. Not to the degree or the exact category of others', but there are universal struggles that we all face. It's so hard to force yourself to do simple things that seem impossible: calling people back even though it's been months, going to class even though you slept through the past four, looking someone you got caught in a lie with in the eye, finding and trying to succeed at a job...all these things take immense effort when you feel that it is an epic struggle every day to even get out of bed. But in my opinion, one of the most helpful ways to get over depression is to enable yourself with a sense of accomplishment and esteem, no matter what it takes. I'm so proud of myself for kicking ass in school and gaining enough respect and positive reputation to be named graduation speaker. I'm glad that I've cut out a lot of bad habits and am a healthier person. I'm so excited to be in a job that's challenging and that makes me want to get to work to improve yesterday's accomplishments. And I really enjoy the people that I've surrounded myself with. I could have claimed none of these things four years ago when I was barely in class, sleeping until 8 p.m. and trying to wash down my depression with alcohol. To the exact recipe that allowed me to be functional again, I am not sure. I don't know what exactly worked. I still do get depressed and would by no means call myself perfect, but I'm constantly in search of improvement and I strive every day to make decisions and to try new things that will enhance my existence. And I think I'm doing a good job. I still have a lot to figure out, but now I know what I don't want to be, and that is caught in the mentality that there's nothing I can personally do to improve my situation (hooray existentialism!)
So. When it comes to the one person who I cannot call a friend anymore, it is perceived that I'm on my high horse about being "better" than this person because I "don't know what it feels like to be depressed and immobile anymore?" Am I better because I'm not in a depressed mentality anymore? I still have my moments, but I certainly don't forget what it feels like. Instead, I just go about things differently to make sure I don't let my mind get the best (or worst) of me. But all the while, even when I was at the height of my depression (oxymoron?), I still AM better than someone who is so let down by herself that the only contact she tries to make with her friends is criticize them while sending relentless suicide messages or even pretends to be someone else to scare her friends into believing that she is not safe, and then refuses to listen to them or make strides to get better (therapy? self-sufficiency? school/jobs? sunlight? socialization?). We've all tried to be there to offer help over the years and at that point truly would have done anything to help out such a friend. But these actions are not of a true friend anymore. It's one thing to have these feelings, but it's quite another to not call back/write back to their friends whatsoever and they derail their concentration by shameless attention pleas.
I AM better because I tried taking charge of my life, time and time again.
I AM better because I do not give up on myself.
I AM better because I don't abandon my friends because their happiness leaves me feeling alone.
Is that what mature single people do when their friends get married, for instance? Insult them and bring them down because they no longer can associate with what it's like to be single while instead they have found something that makes them happy? Yeah, I guess you can be hurt because it seems that they have no connection to you anymore, but don't true friends set those feelings aside and be happy for their friends?
It also reminds me of what it was like to quit smoking: a handful of your smoker friends are extremely happy for you and ask you tips for a successful succession, whereas the others wouldn't show support because they were too unsatisfied with their own inability to quit, they wanted to see a successful person fall back into their habit with them so they could all be helpless.
After 12 months of unreturned phone calls, texts and e-mails, I express my disgruntled feelings and get blamed for setting someone back two months of recovery. At that point, it's time to ask yourself: why are you upset with me for accurately pointing out how your bad habits are causing you to lose friends? Shouldn't you be upset with yourself to the point that you'd want to change your ways instead of calling your friend a stupid cunt? Just a thought.
So I'm not upset. I don't feel wrong by not caring anymore. This situation is so fucked unless she does something to make herself better, I cannot give her pity. Nor can any of the other friends she has isolated from.
Until people take charge of their life instead of blaming others for their misery, I cannot respect them. Life is tough love, sweetheart.
My true friends and the people whom I am the most proud of have, in one way or another, figured this stuff out. There are different cases of depression, self-actualization and the course of action for mental rehabilitation. You don't have to be perfect for me to hold you in high regard (myself included), you just have to be on the path to making yourself better one way or another. And that path does not include excuses, aggression, relentless pot smoking and other forms of escapism.
There's a lot of shittiness in the world. There are a lot of unfortunate, unfair mental roadblocks. But you can sit back and let yourself fall victim to the injustice of it all, or you can take charge and fucking do something about it.
So do something and stop blaming me for my progress and my inability to understand you anymore. This life is what you make of it. I'm happy and with my progress and will be happy for you if you ever try to take responsibility and work toward something.
Edit- Now, after talking with a friend with a long history of emotional intimacy, I've come to realize...
I seldom vocalize it, most likely due to the fact I'm instead bitching about grievances (and not to mention it being seemingly out of character), but I'm so proud and happy for all my friends with whom I still speak. To everyone who has felt their share of pain, grief and other constraints, I truly am inspired by all of you and find it so interesting to see where you have ended up at this current state. So to my friends, my true friends, cheers me hearties. |
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Read 3 - Post |
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| How can I not mention Michael? |
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| 12:04am 26/06/2009 |
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mood:  confused music: Come on!
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Shit's gone crazy, yo. From the moment I first heard the rumor that the King of Pop is no more, to the ever present CNN "Breaking News" full page coverage; talk of Michael is everywhere. Rightfully so--he IS the godfather or pop music and music videos (and also quintessential child-star-gone-wacko, but that's another story).
It's so strange how the media have exasperated this event. Not only is it a sad day for music fans, but it's a focal point of the digital era of broadcast. "Tweets" of celebrities' responses, photo galleries, Facebook statuses (guilty), digital shorts...I can only imagine how many people instantly had extra work or heightened motivation to make this event known, and to make it known that it is known. To provide further irony, I think I'll be posting this rant on Facebook in my perpetuation of social media.
I have only been in my adult life for a handful of prominent music icon deaths. Actually, off the top of my head, I can only name Johnny Cash (and of course, niche band members like Layne Staley of Alice in Chains, Dimebag Darrell, Johnny Ramone, Rick James and hell, I'll throw in Tupac).
So I wonder if this media frenzy masks the honest sadness that is the day of a fallen star. I wonder if the media is desensitizing or, alternatively, exaggerating the genuine emotions and reactions of the mourners. How much of it is force-fed rather than genuine? I wish I was around, in their respective time-frames, when other relics met their premature deaths to see how society reacted in the height of print, radio and undigitized news broadcasting. Figures like: Kurt Cobain- King of grunge, Elvis Presley-"King of Rock," John Lennon- King of Love, Jim Morrison-"The Lizard King," Freddie Mercury- King of flamboyance, Jimi Hendrix-King of guitars, Frank Zappa- King of uncensrship, Sid Vicious-king of bass guitar (ahem), Jerry Garcia- King of dope smokers, Stevie Ray Vaughan- King of modern blues, Jeff Buckley- King of swimming.
I wonder how drastically different such coverage was, even for the more prominent music icons such as Elvis and Lennon. Furthermore, I wonder how people like Iggy Pop and Scott Weiland are still alive and rocking harder than ever (fuck yeah!). And I wonder why, dear god why, could it have not been some other trainwreck chart-topper like Britney instead.
Michael, you will definitely be missed - because, if for nothing else, we are given no other alternative. |
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Read 1 - Post |
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| Ch-ch-ch-changes |
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| 01:46am 20/06/2009 |
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mood: happy
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Perhaps everything I've been doing these past years has been wrong..
Since now- I love not working hard at school, I love having a legit/paid/full time 8-5 job, I love writing professionally, I love "business attire," I love being around people, I (have) love(d) (for the past 6ish months until two-ish weeks from now) not having a boyfriend, I love riding on the back of motorcycles, I love meeting new people I'd usually shrug off, I love maintaining a regular work-out schedule, I love eating late-night food in bed, I love drinking wine, I love not being dependent on cigarettes, I love living in LA, I love being simply WYSIWYG with no hidden agenda or emotion and I love how I no longer feel like twat for embracing a hedonistic, good natured and fun-loving attitude despite it being normal and uninteresting.
Alternatively, I hate PCs, I hate Adobe Acrobat Pro 9, I hate people who think Scientology is a legitimate religion/philosophy, I hate staying in, I hate wasting the day sleeping (though sometimes I still do it, damnit), I hate hipster bands, I hate Hollywood, I hate driving across town, I hate mind games, I hate seeing people from my past and I hate being constant and defined by who I grew up being.
This time last year, who would have guessed? |
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Read 4 - Post |
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| Neither here nor there |
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| 03:21am 05/06/2009 |
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mood: frustrated music: Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young - Four Dead in Ohio
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I recall a handful of character defining moments during my emotional and intellectual development in Ohio. I remember the exact instance when I was 8 years old when, for the first time, I realized my dad wasn't a perfect father figure after all. I recall the event at 18, when I caught the first hint that my mom was emotionally vulnerable and not a stable rock. And at 25, I can pinpoint the dinner at which I lost all familiarity and sense of intellectual belonging to those here in Ohio.
The whole dynamic of my orientation in my life changes when I visit home. Of course in L.A., I'm entirely independent and my actions are unprecedented. I feel so strong and sedimented in my cultural and political ideals. I feel up-to-date with pressing topics and social concerns, and like I just get the general gist of how things operate. And I have lived several states away from any trace of family members or key adult figures since I was 18.
When I come home, of course all my ideals are not only disagreed with, but they are put in such a way by brilliant, respectable people that I start questioning my beliefs, or more likely, question myself as to whether or not I sound like an idiot when I speak my naive opinions. I have been called a liberal quackjob (though paraphrased in their respective ways) by three separate people since Tuesday. I have been told that the political beliefs I hold are only temporary and the consequence of going to the schools I did. Dude, I'm no tree-hugging hippie, people, but at the same time, I'm not jumping into your conversations about what a tragedy it was that McCain lost.
I enjoy California immensely, but I'm not completely onboard with the general, popular mentality either. I still hold some social and political conservatism and think the entertainment industry holds more hypocrisy and unnecessary power than the US automakers. At the same rate, I don't utterly hate Ohio and everyone in it. Sure I took the fastest opportunity to flee the state, but coming home and seeing my high school friends has always been such a relief and an opportunity to recharge myself for living in L.A. I love so many things about this state and wouldn't have chosen to grow up in any other place. I do have many unrelated theories about why the social dynamic of the midwest is superior to anywhere, but in the sake of continuity, that rant will be saved for a later time.
Ironically, this time around, I've never been as cognizant as to how much being here in Ohio makes me feel like an outsider. This is my home, my people, my upbringing and my familiarity. So much of who I am has no doubt been molded within a 20 mile radius. And yet, I feel like a total stranger in the town I grew up in.
Maybe it's that LA has finally gotten to me. That it's warped my perceptions and restructured my thought process. I feel like that rich kid who goes off to a liberal arts school in San Francisco or something and comes home to face their republican country-clubbers to explain they're going off to join the Peace Corps.
So maybe this funk I'm in is purely environmentally rooted (as in MY environment, not THE environment). What are pressing issues in California? Geological secession of the state via devastating earthquakes, gay marriage, "green" living, water shortages, immigration (at least, these are the topics most interesting to me). And what are the riveting 1+ drink-induced heated conversations I'm immediately exposed to here? GM, labor unions, real estate, sub-zero temperatures, boat restoration and "Oh my god we have a black, liberal president." If a venn diagram were constructed of the similar subjects it would include college football (though vaguely comparable) or perhaps the concept of Trader Joe's being awesome.
Or maybe I'm totally blinded to the notion that people in Los Angeles, as a whole, are morons. This we know. But maybe I'm buying in enough to the extent that I don't realize that living there has made me out of touch with, oh say, the other 98% of the country that does not live in the metropolitan epicenter that is Southern California.
Whatever the case, I wonder: Had I remained in Ohio, would I be more like them? I don't remember being narrow-minded or bigoted in my younger years but maybe I didn't know better because it was the majority (sadly)? Or maybe that I've never been this way and I've only recently started really paying attention to the message between the lines.
Thus, I revert back to my favorite inner debate of nature vs. nurture. How much, of who we become is innately formed and what extent is purely humanistic?
Or maybe I should shove it and enjoy the $3 drinks, daylight until 9:45 p.m., home cooking, boating on the Great Lakes and 6.5% sales tax while I can. Happily, most other aspects of Ohio are still a dream to revisit and I'm always glad I do. |
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Read 2 - Post |
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| Social observations |
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| 01:31am 01/06/2009 |
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mood:  exhausted music: Chris Cornell - Follow My Way
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I have no qualms with my decision that this phase of life shall be dedicated to me and the pursuit of fun. I know how to be a hard worker, I know how to be a good significant other, I know how to be a sullen loner. But there's no room for any of those right now. Now, there shall be no drama, emotional complications, or hesitations. Thus far, it's going pretty well.
In light of my hedonism, I've made some fun observations this weekend through our good-natured debauchery.
• Old Town is the shit. Having new friends that all live within a .5 mile radius of such great pubs and atmosphere, who are equally excited, is pretty fantastic.
• People outside of Ohio have heard of Cornhole (a fun, outdoor bar "sport" involving bean bags, proper aim, and wooden platforms at which to hopefully combine the two, for those of you who may not have experienced this)
• People outside the midwest not only know how to play cornhole, but construct their own playing devices. Lesley likes this.
• I really need to remember to use "cornhole" in its noun form, not as a verb. Ie- "let's go cornhole" < "let's go play cornhole."
• Loudly broadcasted pop and top 40s music makes me uncontrollably angry, whereas hard rock and metal thrills me. I don't think this is the intention of the music industry.
• One of the only topics I cannot socially bullshit is space. Somewhat of an unfortunate dilemma while surrounded by herds of people who work for it.
• When something relatively trivial doesn't go my way under normal circumstances, I'm usually pretty good at looking at it objectively, finding justification for the outcome and moving on. When something doesn't go my way when I've been drinking, I automatically launch into a highly animated, public ranting spree to all around me about the injustices regarding the situation.
• Cut-offs can and WILL come back, a la Nevernude movement that I'm trying to initiate.
• Noon kickball games on Sundays really shouldn't be as hard as they are to show up on time to and be motivated for.
• Chuck Taylors seriously could never have been legitimately used as athletic shoes. Have you ever tried comfortably playing a sport in them? There's no way.
• Drinks prepared and served out of a cooler via a ladle mean business.
• Guys who wear good cologne automatically increase their stock, even if they are tools otherwise.
• Gracefully ingesting multiple shots of vodka and tequila are a total thing of the past, or so my body has proven.
• There are some kick ass NASA engineers. There are also some damn idiots that control our space missions.
• Not all people who speak with a British accent are from Great Britain. You'd think I'd keep this in mind when meeting new people, having a good friend who is from Briticized South Africa and all, but no. Good thing my ability to embarrass myself with my ignorance transcends all cultural differences.
• Bruce Willis and Demi Moore's daughter, "Rumer Willis" apparently lives next door to my friends (as she randomly showed up) and has a fantastic sense of humor.
• It is truly amazing how many people do not know how to operate their digital cameras. Even while sober. And what's worse: they don't even care that they're getting blurry, improperly lit, poorly-framed pictures. We're talking bad.
• I make a pretty good Pam Beasley in costume and mannerisms (and roommate, a good Karen). Having naturally frizzy hair, quite-ness and a love for sarcasm has paid off. And have seen every episode of The Office about 10 times, so that helps too.
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Read 2 - Post |
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| 25 |
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| 02:10am 24/05/2009 |
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mood:  loved music: Electric Six - I'm the Bomb
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Between the Nine Inch Nails + Jane's Addiction concert, soup line at the Edison, hanging in Griffith Park and Dave and Buster's, it's been a most satisfactory birthday weekend. Seriously just what I've been needing and probably the best since 21 in Vegas (almost as good drink quality-wise, but not quite). No quarter-life crisis here, I've got lots to look forward to!
Baller.
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Read 4 - Post |
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| USPS? More like USBS! |
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| 12:53am 12/05/2009 |
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mood: nerdy music: Amelie soundtrack
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I just read in the news that the cost of stamps went up two cents today to 44 cents? What the hell is this? Didn't the price go up about a year ago? Nonetheless, on Friday I was at the post office and decided I need a sheet of about half a million stamps. The postal lady was reaching for some generic, non-Forever ones and I said, "no no, the awesome Simpsons stamps that are on display, of course." She asked if I consented to the fact they cost 44 cents, compared to the usual 42. I thought, 'there's no price on good taste,' and complied. I remember thinking, why are these two cents more? Obviously they're cooler than the other flower stamp option, so I thought it was a novelty fee or something. Or the two cents benefit a charitable collection for that Simpsons character who has lupus or the one who lost a son in the war or something.
Luckily, my decision for the more expensive stamps was well played as I don't have to buy penny stamps like the last time this situation rolled around--this kind of good fortune never happens to me, hurrah! But the woman who tried to sell me generic stamps, oh I am not pleased with the likes of her. She must have known that prices were going up and didn't warn me prior to my Simpsons selection? What a bitch. Good choice, Lesley, no thanks to the United States Post Service.
Besides actually needing stamps, I thought I'd buy a half a million because I was entertaining thoughts of sending old school MAIL invitations for my birthday gathering- a social attempt I haven't done since I turned..hmm..exactly. My line of thinking is- nowadays with facebook and evite, it's actually a rare treat to get hand-crafted letters from friends in the mail. I get a few post cards a year and oh yes, they instantly are secured a prominent location on my fridge. Yes, in the event I decide to go through with this social gathering plan, I thought, 'oh how nifty it would be to mail people.' You know what USPS? Suck it, I'm not giving you a large stack of business. I'll just utilize your bastard cousin, "electronic" mail. You'll probably lose my mail anyway, like my aunt's graduation check and thus far, my Mother's Day card. Assholes.
Ok, I somewhat understand the logic behind inflation, increasing production costs and compensation for the decreasing amount of revenue generated from sending snail mail. But at the same rate, I'm still annoyed. I remember that from what felt like all of my youth, stamps were 29 cents (or realistically, three years' worth). I remember these things cause I was one of those stamp-collecting kids who had hundreds of pages to show for it. Whatever, it was bitchin; I even had 2 cent stamps from my relatives' saved love letters from 1900 that we somehow inherited. Stamps were two cents for twenty five friggin years! And in the past three years alone, stamps have cost three different prices.
I just realized that kids of the future probably won't have stamp collections, with all the electronic bills and the post office pissing off its civilians and all. Can I again just say how cool my nerd collection was? I'm saddened for all of the children of the future. They say that with every passing generation, our children should thrive better than their parents. Well kids, no stamp collection for you, I win. |
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| All you need is love? |
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| 03:33am 11/05/2009 |
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mood:  awake music: Here We Go Magic - Tunnelvision
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I spend so much time being cynical, by character not by circumstance. I'm not a depressing person really, I always have a positive attitude despite my bitching. I constantly am in reminder of daily annoyances that I forget to embrace what makes me giggle. So alternatively, what do I love?
-I love washing and detailing my own car. I love how it makes me feel to be so attentive to something so many others find as a money-draining chore.
-I love Pasadena. This town continues to impress me in so many different ways. I love that I've been able to continuously enjoy living in the same place for (gasp) almost two years.
-I love my kitteh and how she always knows when I'm sick or down and comes and sleeps on my chest. I also love how she meows every time I sneeze, even when she's sound asleep.
-I love not having homework and being completely free after I get home from work. I have free time! I can hang out with the friends I forgot I had! Amazing!
-I love how I still somehow have stayed in touch with a lot of old friends despite being thousands of miles away and seeing them a handful of times in years.
-I love business attire. Call me crazy but dressing in a suit actually thrills me.
-I love having a gym in my apartment that has all the paid channels I'm too cheap to buy.
-I love how I'm going to the NINJA tour. Ahh Trent and Dave Navarro, it's been way too long!
-I love cheese. I'm an old Jewish grandmother when it comes to discounts and coupons and saving every buck possible at the store, but the one thing where price is no object is imported cheese.
-I love martinis. I love making martinis. I love that others love my martinis, because they are, in fact, awesome.
-I love that 25 is two weeks away. Discounted insurance and rental car capabilities, here I come.
-I love rollerblading around town when it's warm at night.
-I love living with a fun roommate who brings loads of fun, tasty JPL guy friends over to our place for hookah magic.
-I REALLY love the Edison in downtown. 35 cent martinis/free grilled cheese and soup/flapper waitresses/1920s architecture? I need to convince the bar to let me live there.
-I love my music collection and love when at parties (though rare it is) they play my kinda tunes instead of top 40s bullshit or rap.
-I love how slowly, I'm regaining all the fun that's been stripped of my life. Between drama, school and an emotionally draining, isolating relationship, it's great to know that it's possible to be mature and fun-loving at the same time. Much like how life was at 21, but without all the depression and self-destruction.
-I love not knowing what the future holds because I know I'll look back in 5 years, much as I do now, and think "damn I had no idea..."
-I do not love how I teeter on the verge of being an insomniac. What, I couldn't end on a positive note, that'd just be too much to ask of me. |
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Read 3 - Post |
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| 01:42am 20/04/2009 |
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mood: worried
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There's no blame for how our love did slowly fade
And now that it's gone it's like it wasn't there at all
And here i rest where disappointment and regret collide
Lying awake at night |
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Read 3 - Post |
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| Misspent youth, faking up a rampage |
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| 02:17am 19/04/2009 |
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mood:  melancholy
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I forgot how much the song Stumbleine meant to me and how, at 14 (a decade ago!), this is what I identified with. I even remember using the line "nobody nowhere understanding anything about me...and all my dreams...lost at sea," as my AIM away message at that time. I think this line can follow anyone no matter what stage of life you're in and reviewing its relevance as a freshman in high school compared to how I could potentially apply it to this modern day is so, so vastly different. But it seemed so much more significant and permanent back then.
That, and Daydream (the demo version), I listened to no less than 1000 times, but probably not since 2000. I guess I have to be in the right phase to appreciate grounding songs like these, and I've been distracting myself (for better or worse) too much to identify. But I want to get back to that.
I remember how infinite time seemed then, and how infinite the sadness was (pun intended). I remember how I felt things so much more intensely than I let myself now since I realize that I need to filter out pain and become apathetic to it lest I be rendered unproductive. I remember thinking: this song IS me, the melody and the listlessness, and I will never ultimately change and I, to a degree, enjoy this about me. So now, I think, have I really changed it? I think we're all still that 14 year old with some added mileage and a better sense of how to not let the bad affect us as much.
I remember how hard it was to find music videos back then, and how I had the physical lyrics book from the CD instead of looking them up on google. Every new version of the song was a rare treat. And despite the awesomeness of youtube, I still cannot find this one particular live, upbeat version I once had. Balls!
This is who I was growing up, this was my scene, this is the foundation for my lonely self. I don't think I want to abandon that part of me, despite how desolate it was.
Meanwhile, some humor from looking up youtube vids:
I don't see how that's relevant at all...
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Read 1 - Post |
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| Don't Ever Think (too much) |
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| 01:42am 08/04/2009 |
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mood: pissed off
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I'm not sure it if is less painful to suppress all memories and associations altogether, or to wait it out until I don't care, which is inevitable in due time. Ahh complete dissonance. Yessss, there's the Lesley we all know (and some of us) love.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, has been my week. |
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Read 2 - Post |
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| My love is music, I will marry melody |
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| 03:46am 20/03/2009 |
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mood: complacent music: All of the above
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Haven't had a week this traumatic, for about 57 different reasons, in a long while. How have I been retaining sanity and functioning properly at work and such? There's been some wine, yes (though saved for apres-work). But more importantly, there has been the soothing power of music. Music that makes you remember, music that helps you forget. Music that lets you feel something different than what you're feeling, and music that helps you tune out everything else.
I was describing my perfect date to someone recently, well my perfect way to spend a significant moment with someone I care about. He was saying the usual: dinner + have whatever cliche discussion + fall into each other's arms and so on and so forth.
Without having such a prompted answer, I told him something slightly truncated (and more economical), to the effect of: lay down in a dark room, light some candles...wait for it, this is going somewhere else...have a fantastic stereo system nearby to loudly play an audibly orgasmic playlist of music that's so captivating you are on the bring of tears, no matter how many times you have heard the song.
I remember I did this with someone at Rollins when I played him "Angel" by Massive Attack and it was nothing short of perfect. Such to the extent that I forget the fine details of so many first dates, so many important emotional moments that I probably shouldn't. But this? Never.
When I described this scenario, it was totally lost on him. To hell with him. I just want someone to listen to music with and to just shut up and enjoy what we already know to be good.
Righto, so I've been on a constant loop of a few songs through the good, the bad and the goddamnridiculous this week has shown. So what's been giving me life? And what are you all being moved by?
-Land of Talk - "Sea Foam" to capture the ecstatic yet moping around, confused tone as of late. I want these girls to follow me around and play this when I get home and kick off my shoes and hang up my coat in a self-defeating way.
-The Rosebuds - "Boxcar" for when you want to shout I FUCKING LOVE THIS ALL
-Critical Bill - "My Suicide Girl" because we love the 90s and trying to be badass
-Tin Hat Trio - "Willow Weep For Me" to allow music to let life feel like the end credits of a film
-Rinocerose - "Cubicle" for when I am feeling quirky sitting in my cubicle
-The Black Ghosts - "Full Moon" because we all need a good song that is beautifully performed by our cars' stereos whilst sitting in traffic
-Jace Everett - "Bad Things" for the positive association with vampires and the rockabilly awesomeness. I'll dance to this, and that says a lot. Now, to find a place to play this, besides my ipod/Mini/Mac...
-Death in Vegas - "Dirge" since sexiness and despair always seem to go hand in hand
-Does it Offend You Yeah - "Dawn of the Dead" because we all need to think of someone out of reach
-Supertramp - "Goodbye Stranger" for the literal and figurative beauty of this classic track
-Silversun Pickups - "Well Thought out Twinkles" because we sometimes need to listen over and over and over and over...
-Three Days Grace - "Animal" for the best way anger can be expressed through neo-altrock
-Beyonce - "Single Ladies" for when we all feel like a sellout for being victim of stupid catchy pop
-Semisinic - "Singing in My Sleep" since we all need to just have a good smile now and again
-The Ting Tings - "That's Not My Name" when people mistakenly call me Lindsey (happens once a week)
Never take it seriously, you never get hurt. Never get hurt, you can always have fun. And if you ever get lonely, you just go to the record store and visit all your friends. |
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Read 6 - Post |
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| 09:35pm 17/03/2009 |
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Me, rockin the pink flair, boss person and her two friends. And that guy, Zack Snyder and the beauty that is Pasadena in the background. Oh yes. |
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Read 1 - Post |
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| famous people!! |
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| 02:17pm 15/03/2009 |
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mood:  excited music: Sea Foam - Land of Talk
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So I just shared a plate of hummus with Zack Snyder, the director of 300/Watchmen/Dawn of the Dead apparently?
Topics we discussed before I was made known who he was: the fact that I handed out 5,000 pens at our Race for the Cure booth this morning and that the general population of peoples are greedy little bitches, I was hungover at 6-fucking-oclock whilst dealing with them, and that, in his sleep, I'm going to steal the anchor's Pasadena Hills house (where we were).
And then came the embarrassing realization that no, Lesley, you're not just talking to an overly enthused, ruggedly sexyish older man. You're talking to a bijillionaire who made one of my favorite zombie movies happen! And abs! Lots and lots of abs! And giant penis! (all of which I thanked him for after finding out who he was).
I've been led to believe that all directors are egocentric, annoyingly visionary people, especially when they've made billions from making films from other peoples' stories. But this guy was pretty friendly and talkative. Hell, he encouraged me to steal his friend/neighbor's estate.
Maybe if I wake up at 6am every Sunday I'll have an adventure?
Nah. |
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Read 3 - Post |
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| Do I make others or myself more uncomfortable? |
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| 02:50pm 08/03/2009 |
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mood:  silly
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Wearing a shirt to the gym that quotes in big bold letters, "I wanna be your dog"....good or bad idea? I'm not sure if it makes it more or less creepy that Iggy Pop's face is largely displayed on the front. AHAHhahhh I'm all silly today. |
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Read 2 - Post |
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lateniteslesley's journal