Where the Wild Things Are: I could eat it up I love it so

I own this movie so it's already got a plus from me. Being based on the book, there are some added scenes by Spike Jones and Dave Eggers to develop what the narrative already tells us: that Max is a lonely, misunderstood 9-year-old boy living somewhere in New England (where it snows and there's an ocean nearby). His mom (played by the lovely, lovely Catherine Keener) can sympathize when he feels down and tries to comfort him when his big sister's friend smash his igloo (they don't mean to make him cry, though), just as he tries to comfort her when she thinks she's failing at work, although, by dancing in front of her while she's on the phone and telling her stories that she types out in the computer. It's a step-by-step psychological study of our hero before he becomes the hero.

The wolf suit (I want one) comes on one night when Max's mother is with her boyfriend and is ignoring Max's invitation to get in his "rocket ship before lava comes." So he puts on his wolf costume (with Converse sneakers!), stomps his way down the stairs, and gets himself into a whole mess of trouble. He shouts, climbs onto the kitchen counter and demands to be fed, and then bites his mom's shoulder after which he races out the front door barking like a dog.

All played stupendously by Max Records and scored by Karen O and the Kids. Being just 9 for the first round of shooting and almost 11 for the second, Max has the naturality of Shia LaBeouf and fearlessness of any old time actor when their craft was actually disciplined day and night, part of who they were not what they did. If you didn't know this was Spike Jonze and already a book, you'd swear you were watching Max as a documentary with his beautiful, open face and New England accent and messy brown hair and lips red enough to shun lipstick.

And just in case there's any doubt, here's a word from our sponsors just in case you're not convinced.

"This beast is Max, the boy in the wolf costume who one night slips into the kind of dream the movies were made for." - NY Times, Manohla Dargis

"Profoundly beautiful and affecting, Where the Wild Things Are is a breath-
taking act of artistic transubstantiation. Max Records, a Botticelli-faced discovery, plays the fictional Max with a lovely purity of energy and freedom — he has a rare kid-aged talent for concentration in the midst of brouhaha." - EW.com, Lisa Schwarzbaum

"Where the Wild Things Are is a startling achievement from a director with a clear vision and the strength to see it through. Working from -- but not slavishly adapting -- Maurice Sendak's beloved children's classic, Jonze has made a movie that can't help but create controversy because of its utter simplicity, which masks layers of complexity." - Huffington Post, Marshall Fine

"Bad Touch" A Poem by Bloodhound Gang.

Note: For those curious and impulsive enough as me. We've all gone through the "Bad Touch" phase, I know Roomie and I are currently in the thick of it. So enjoy and reminisce.

I'd appreciate your input.

Sweat, baby. Sweat, baby.

Sex is a Texas drought.

Me and you do the kind of stuff

That only Prince would sing about

So put your hands down my pants

And I bet you'll feel nuts

Yes, I'm Siskel,

Yes, I'm Ebert

And you're getting two thumbs up

You've had enough of two-hand touch

You want it rough

You're out of bounds

I want you smothered

Want you covered

Like my Waffle House hashbrowns

Come quicker than FedEx

Never reach an apex

Just like Coca-Cola stock

You are inclined

To make me rise an hour early

Just like daylight savings time

Do it now

You and me baby ain't nothin but mammals

So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel

Do it again now

You and me baby ain't nothin but mammals

So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel

Gettin' horny now

Love

The kind you clean up with a mop and bucket

Like the lost catacombs of Egypt

Only God knows where we stuck it

Hieroglyphics?

Let me be Pacific

I wanna be down your South Seas

But I got this notion

That the motion of your ocean

Means "Small Craft Advisory"

So if I capsize on your thighs

High tide, B-5

You sunk my battle ship

Please turn me on

I'm Mister Coffee

With an automatic drip

So show me yours I'll show you mine

"Tool Time" you'll Lovett

Just like Lyle

And then we'll do it doggie style

So we can both watch "X-Files"

Do it now

You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals

So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel

Do it again now

You and me baby ain't nothin but mammals

So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel

Gettin' horny now

X3

[Every guy I know can say the lyrics to this song on cue.]

I'm in a pickle...2, actually.

It's funny when you look back and think about the first time you met someone and then reminisce about how you came to be in the current situation you're in, like a mental timeline. This is how I feel about Spike and the best conclusion that pops into my mind like one of those bubbled verbs in comic books is "it's so random!"

Come a few days ago, I went over to his apartment because he asked me to and soon after Roomie joined us. That night went on a bit longer.... I got to bed at 4:oo AM. We watched some Internet videos and then put on Michelle and Romy's High School Reunion (is it me or is that movie long??). Roomie left towards the end of the movie and then I stayed about 5 minutes longer lying next to him with my head on his shoulder. He tried moving close to me, which was fine, but I wasn't about to do anything near what I do with SF. I have this fear of being with another guy after SF because I know it's going to be different and I have to get used to another person all over again and he has to get used to me, especially since this one is a month younger than me while SF is almost 4 years older and I'm already comfy-cozy with him. Completely content, which is ironic.

The other night, Spike and I watched Star Wars. Two episodes. The first one we were joking the whole way through, making comments, racist, sexist, and just plain funny ones. For the second episode we were quieter and napped a little. It was 1 AM by the time we were finished with the movie and I left after a couple minutes of talking. Once in my apartment, I texted him, "Fuck I forgot my laptop." He joked and said it was too late he already ate it. I had to go back down the hall and get it. When I opened the door, Roomie was outside and her puppy Pomeranian was racing towards my feet! We watched puppy and Spike's roommate's pet cat, Joey, bark and meow at each other for a little while before leaving again.

He started texting me again. Pretty soon he told me he was outside my door and I walked back with him to his apartment and he said, "You seem shy," (kind of a creeper thing to say) and I said, "I am, in case you haven't noticed." And he turned my head and kissed me and from the first millisecond I was comparing him to SF, there was no stopping that. He feels similar, the back of his neck feels similar, but he doesn't take his time like SF, who just completely becomes consumed with what's happening and it's like we movie in slow motion. No, Spike was different in that he was thinking ahead too much. So I made the excuse that my phone buzzed and immediately sent SF the text, "I like you better :/" and told Spike I had to go because I was going to wake up early in the morning.

On the way back to my apartment, Spike texted me asking if he'd gone too far and I said not quite, but close and that we needed to go at a snail's pace if this was to go on since I've never had to get used to a new guy before (nor do I really want to) and he said that was fine. Spike is abstinent. He's almost a holy roller, not quite, which is interesting. I have no problem with people who are abstinent and refrain from all that for whatever reason, I just don't think it's right for me. This makes Spike a bit predictable in that I don't know what we're going to do but I do know what we're not going to do and, for me, that's kind of an important missing piece of the puzzle.

So yesterday I told SF I was going to see him, no questions asked. I would've gone to see him the night before if it weren't 3 AM. But I left Friend's apartment around 3:30 PM yesterday and picked him up to grab some Taco Bell (because that is his safe haven and I like their chicken soft tacos and was star-ving).

It was almost 12 AM at his apartment and I was munching on a Larabar in his Pink Floyd T-shirt, sitting at the kitchen table and he joined me in his boxers and we talked, quite lightly and genuinely, about how Spike just wasn't worth breaking things off with him. Because, frankly, SF and I are too important. We're too rare. What we are is best friends. I've fallen asleep in his nook too many times, been too many places with him, seen too many things, felt too many things. I've stopped keeping count. Now it's just one collective, mutual knowledge that, yeah, we fit. As best friends. No questions asked.

[Get the pickles? Haha cuz they're phallic and it's about boys and... never mind.]

You're Kind of Fantastic.

SF wants to go to the hospital for a physical sometime soon. One minute into a conversation with a doctor and he will be prescribed anti-depressants. This is a fact, not an assumption. I told him so and he still wants to get his physical. "They'll give you pills," I said. "I won't take them," he told me, "I don't take pills. I hate medicine. They can give me all the pills they want and I still won't take them."

This is how the beginning of our night started (that and a delightful trip to Taco Bell). After driving around and almost getting lost, we went back to his place and watched the majority of Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs (so hilarious: "I've never been in a snowball fight before. Do you build points or is it...to the death?"). I was falling asleep in his lap on the couch so I pointed to the bed and we migrated over.

We started to talk about this routine of ours, me still coming over. "You're a hard habit to break," I said. "I can make it easier for you," he offered and I laughed. "No, I just...I think one of the reasons I do it is because you're not like all the other douchebags in LA. And you're older than me and guys my age don't have that. There's an oldness to your personality. And you're not bad to look at either." He giggled. "My brother and I used to stand in the mirror and wonder what the hell people saw in us. We look like twins. We don't understand it." "Well, you just have one of the most unique face structures and it just works... But I don't get why you keep me around." "Because you're a good friend and you're nice and you're pretty and you keep me not mopey and you're just a ball of niceness." I moved closer and made him look at me. "Don't be mopey because...you're kind of fantastic."

Of course, more was said. Nothing that you need to hear though.... I love it when vulnerable people speak. They create the best quotes.

I owe you a food diary.

Tue 5.25.10

1/2 TJ peanut butter sandwich

1 small plate of TJ shrimp fried rice and vegetable egg roll

1 small bowl of TJ shrimp stir fry

It was kind of a Chinese overkill. Ew.

Everyone Bask in Joe Hisaishi's Amazingness.

This is a song from Totoro called "Tunnel of the Wind." Joe Hisaishi composes all of Hayao MIyazaki's films and for good reason.

My New Food Hero: Gwyneth Paltrow.

You are the second coolest mom-lady I know. The first coolest lady is my mom since she's also very chill and simple with food. And did Gwen just say "Beautious"??

Restaurant: Buddha Belly: 19 $ of awesome

You'll have to excuse the slowness of this article. My brain is rather sluggish right now after driving over an hour to Santa Monica beach with SF for just 1 hour of sand time. But Christ was it windy! It was very chilly and blew sand all over my body while I was on my towel and it stung my skin! SF even went into the water and went full blown paddling with frothy (cold!!) waves. The boy is crazy, I swear. I was a bit of a Debbie Downer since I was too cold to do much but sit on my towel and watch.

Then, once we were utterly starving and exhausted (me) from sun and aggressive wind, we drove down a few blocks to a plaza where there were more restaurants to choose from than nail polish colors. The first one we came across after strolling out of the parking garage was Buddha Belly (or is it Buddha's Belly?) and I asked if he was into Chinese. We looked at the menu and I was very impressed by their variety of Vegan choices. Inward!

It took about 5 minutes for me to choose, but I wound up ordering a Thai ramen, which is very different from Japanese ramen, as I found out. SF ordered ginger fried rice. Sounds fairly simple, right? I wondered why he would even bother when there were so many other fantastic sounding items like Pad Thai, Ahi Tuna Burger with sweet potato fries, and vegetarian bento box.

A couple minutes later, our dishes arrived: my big steaming bowl of lemongrass broth, tomato slices, wavy rice noodles, stem mushrooms, and pink shrimp with a side of lime and coconut milk, and SF's plate of rich, orange rice with shrimp, steak, tomato, onions, mushrooms, and herbs.

The first thing I ate was a mushroom. My face lit up like the fourth of July. SF plucked a tomato out of my broth and ate it in one big bite. His face took different shapes and then came, "...Wow... wow.... It doesn't even taste like a tomato." Really? I had the other tomato (after blowing on it profusely). He was right! It tasted like tomato, but spicier and juicier and fresher. I took a clump of his rice. "Oh my gosh!" I exclaimed. It was so dimensional and rich and...like the most unexpected, best fried rice flavor ever. Ever, ever.

I ate half my bowl and then SF and I switched plates and picked for a while longer.

When our waitress came, SF ordered the dark chocolate fondu for dessert once I told him I'd never had fondu. "You have to have fondu," he told me. It came in a small tower of a dish with a candle underneath and a long plate of cut strawberries, bananas, oranges, and cheesecake triangles. Magic. Especially the juicy, other worldly orange pieces. I've never had such a bite of orange on this earth.

And again, it was just for the low cost of 19 bucks. I say yes to that.

Oh Ho Yes.

I have an obsession with this boy that is borderline stalkerish... Not that he knows.

An actual handout from Producing Independent Film class.

"Things I've learned at the Movies."

1. Large, loft-style apartments in New York City are well within the price range of most people--whether they are employed or not.

2. At least one of a pair of identical twins is born evil.

3. Should you decide to defuse a bomb, you don't worry which wire to cut. You will always choose the right one.

4. Most laptop computers are powerful enough to override the communication system of any invading alien society.

5. It does not matter if you are heavily outnumbered in a fight involving martial arts: your enemies will wait patiently to attack you one by one by dancing around in a threatening manner until you have knocked out their predecessors.

6. When you turn out the light to go to bed, everything in your bedroom will still be clearly visible, just slightly bluish.

7. If you are blonde and pretty, it is possible to become a world expert on nuclear fission at the age of 22.

8. Honest and hard working policemen are traditionally gunned down three days before their retirement.

9. Rather than wasting bullets, megalomaniacs prefer to kill their archenemies using complicated machinery involving fuses, pulley systems, deadly gasses, lasers, and man-eating sharks, which will allow their captives at least 20 minutes to escape.

10. During all police investigations, it be necessary to visit a strip club at least once.

11. All beds have special L-shaped cover sheets that reach the armpit level on a woman but only to waist level on the man lying beside her.

12. All grocery shopping bags contain at least one stick of French bread.

13. It's easy for anyone to land a plane providing there is someone in the control tower to talk you down.

14. Once applied, lipstick will never rub off--even while scuba diving.

15. You're very likely to survive any battle in any war unless you make the mistake of showing someone a picture of your sweetheart back home.

16. Should you wish to pass yourself as a German or Russian officer, it will not be necessary to speak the language. A German or Russian accent will do. (It used to be an English accent for the German.)

17. The Eiffel Tower can be seen from any window in Paris.

18. A man will show pain while taking the most ferocious beating, but will wince when a woman tries to clean his wounds.

19. If a large pane of glass is visible, someone will be thrown through it before long.

20. If staying in a haunted house, women should investigate any strange noises in their most revealing underwear.

21. Word processors never display a cursor on screen but will always say: Enter Password Now.

22. Even when driving down a perfectly straight road, it is necessary to turn the steering wheel vigorously from left to right every few moments.

23. All bombs are fitted with electronic timing devices with large red readouts so you know exactly when they're going to go off.

24. A detective can only solve a case once he's been suspended from duty.

25. If you decide to start dancing in the street, everyone you meet will know all the steps.

26. Police departments give their officers personality tests to make sure they are deliberately assigned to a partner who is their total opposite,

27. When they are alone, all foreign military officers prefer to speak to each other in English.

SF porn.

Effing adorable... I mean it really doesn't get any better than this....

Sad Tummy Food Diary.

Wed 5.19.10

1/2 banana with TJ peanut butter

a couple strips of smoked salmon

1 smoked salmon sandwich with avocado and colby jack cheese (cheese was a bad idea)

2 Snickerdoodle cookies

1 small bowl of Basmati rice with vegetarian chili and banana (try it! it's awesome!)

I just wanted to share the chili part :)

Cookies are bad if....

1. You can feel the oil/grease seep onto your tongue with each bite.

2. You're pretty sure that's a chocolate chip, but not quite.

3. It splits your tooth in half (has happened to me. with a soft cookie... I know, right?!)

4. When it's actually a...cough, nevermind.

5. Your roommate bites down and is immediately electrocuted.

6. Your dog/cat/hamster/piglet won't go near it.

7. Under "Ingredients" it says: wordyoucan'tpronounce, followed by extralongwordyoucan'tpronounce, followed by lard, followed by a telephone number.

8. It is a dictator cookie and dones a Hitler mustache.

9. Your child can't recognize it.

10. It has any other noncookie characteristic. Such as barking.

Haha that was fun! I ate a Snickerdoodle cookie before writing this and SF got jealous.

The movie women should avoid at all costs: Sin City.

Maybe it's because I hate watching movies in class because it's such a distracting environment and hard to concentrate, or maybe Sin City really is as bad as I think it is? I hate to say this, as much as I love this teacher, but damn you, Michael Bolus, for clearly not considering what it is like to be a girl and sit through this catastrophe of a male-oriented film. I get it, the graphic novel is dirty and grimy and X-rated in every possible way, but that does not mean the film should be also. I don't think it should have been made into a film at all.

I could tell just from the opening credits that I was going to get a sarcasm headache from this "Shot and Cut by Robert Rodriguez" piece of digitized bullshit. So much voice over. So much stupid-smart dialogue. It was so damn noisy my ears were buzzing uncomfortably.

[Note that I'm judging the film, not the graphic novel, which I'm sure sits proudly on its shelf of gore glory.] It begins with Bruce Willis getting shot repeatedly in the shoulder and not dying, then getting shot even more in the torso and still not dying. Then some stuff happens. Women appear left and right, flaunting full-frontal boobage and buttocks just hanging out even though there is absolutely no reason for it. I couldn't even pay attention to what was being said. The dialogue itself was just too abstract, sentences were more like "what can I think of that is both strong yet poetic and not natural at all?" Did I mention the blood is both sometimes bright white and lipstick red? Sure, this is a style, but it bored the hell out of me. Oh, primary colors! How imaginative.

One of the major irks: how women are portrayed throughout the entire movie. They're all the same. Not one ugly female to be seen, and all sporting what look like sex shop attire on a rainy night. And what was really disturbing to me? There were horrible, unspeakable acts being done to them, and I felt not an ounce of sympathy. Great. Horrible story, look, and I don't give a shit about who's who. Awesome.

Another major irk: Jessica freaking Alba. I'm sorry, but the girl does not pull a single muscle acting during this emotionally stressful movie that should be reflected on the faces of the actors, but really? You're being whipped into submission by a green, horny, pedophile and not an ounce of fear on your face? Apparently she's cool, calm, and collected enough to turn around and spit out some fuck-you lines of dialogue.

Clearly Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Terintino did not spend an ounce of brain power considering how it was to be a female in the audience and walk out feeling disgusted and degraded and used. Somehow it sunk low in my gut, this hanging feeling, like I was a piece of meat. Oh yeah? This movie can go straight to hell with you, ya bastards.

A Fat Day and Dinner Meeting Food Diary.

Sun 5.17.10

1/2 bag of TJ green apple slices with TJ peanut butter

1/2 smoked salmon and avocado sandwich

2 TJ vegetable egg rolls

1 small TJ banana with TJ peanut butter

1 small bowl of spaghetti with Ragu sauce

3 pieces of buttered garlic french bread (mischievous face)

1 chocolate chip oatmeal cookie

Told you. But our (Roomie and I) future film's producer came over, so I was obligated to stuff my face since he brought the amazing garlic bread and cookies.

A Saturday Food Diary.

This one was fun.

Sat 5.15.10

1/2 bag of TJ green apple slices with TJ peanut butter

1 plate of fish n' chips (4 pieces of fried cod with fries) from Arclight

1/2 avocado sandwich

small handful of chocolate-covered cranberries

Those fish n' chips really filled me up.

Okay, I'll do a food diary, just for you readers.

Fri 5.14.10

1 Caramel brownie Luna bar

1 egg roll w/half an avocado

1/2 an avocado sandwich

1 small bowl of TJ shrimp fried rice (Mmm)

2 homemade chocolate chip cookies

1 small handful of chocolate covered cranberries

1 small handful of In N Out fries (Roomie made me!)

The End.

A Few Reasons I'm Dreading Nighttime Right Now...

1. The relocation of our salt container. Yes. Yesterday morning at 7:30 AM, Roomie and I were searching wildly for her large container of Kirkland sea salt (like white sand in a bottle). It was nowhere to be found and this confused the hell out of us. Our only conclusion was that it was in Roomie2's bedroom since she had friends over the previous night. But she was still asleep so we went on about our day, going to school for four hours, and then returning home for lunch. I walked in the door and there was the salt, sitting peacefully by the stove. Huh?? Just as Roomie came home, Roomie2 appeared from the bathroom saying she found the salt in the microwave. The microwave?? We all looked at each other. Neither of us put it in there. Nada. We laughed, saying it was weird, and then moved on.

2. The re-relocation of a chocolate-covered cranberry. It was nighttime by then and I was exhausted by 9 PM from developing a story with Roomie and then going out with SF to buy him Taco Bell since I owed him. While the three of us were stooped at the kitchen counter, I got up to grab a handful of my chocolate cranberries and dropped one in the process, not bothering to pick it up. Around 9, while I was lying under my top bunk in the dark, unable to go to sleep for fear of hearing the microwave door open, Roomie texted me saying she was hungry. A moment later there was a knock on our door. We were both confused as to who it was, but Roomie answered and it turned out to be our friend from down the hall (we'll call him Spike since that's how his hair is). Spike and I sat at the counter while Roomie walked towards the fridge to get a drink. And, to my horror, came, "I thought I threw this out?" from Roomie. "I threw away the chocolate cranberry and now it's back on the floor in the same place!" We both groaned, not quite sure what to do or think but freak out in a fit of frightened laughter. Hahahahhh....gulp.

3. The relocation of my cell phone. This could just be my early morning stupidity, but I'm pretty darn sure I did not bring my cell phone out to the kitchen and place it on the counter before I grabbed my peanut butter jar and apple slices. I sat down with my breakfast and there it was, just chilling in front of me. This just got a lot weirder.

4. A very slippery bathtub that I could slip and die in. Shower time. Oh, wait, what?? I could fall and break my head in this tub! It was so slippery I wondered how the hell all that soap got on the bottom, creating soap suds at my toes. Thankfully I was able to keep my balance while shampooing and face scrubbing, but boy did that throw me.

Hmmm...

Yeah, it's been a while. But I have reasons. I've been extremely hesitant to even sign into my blog ever since my mom got mad at me about the Cinco de Mayo article and now I'm afraid to write anything else on here that's halfway honest. So what if I had 1 beer? If I didn't, I would've stayed quiet and shy for that entire party and that's no fun at all.... Now even a food diary feels like too much information to give out, which is ridiculous but true. So I guess I'm giving this a break till I'm comfortable again. Until then, I leave you with the new Inception trailer that Roomie and I are utterly obsessed with.

New Money Food Diary!

Yay, no more living off egg rolls for four straight days!

Thu 5.6.10

a couple bites of chocolate cake

2 TJ egg rolls (I didn't get money till the evening)

1 row of Sunrise Kiss sushi (spicy tuna wrapped in salmon and avocado)

1 small plate of vegetable tempura

1 small bowl of miso soup

some edamame

I was starving by the time we got to Kabuki so I went all out.

Yes. Awesome stuff here, Reno 911 man. Do tell.

Told you he was amazing.

The Cinco de Mayo Food Diary.

A more detailed post is coming to explain all this....

Wed 5.5.10

2 TJ vegetable egg rolls

1/2 bag of cheese puffs (they're all gone, finally)

2 vegan chocolate chip cookies

a handful of Tostitos round chips

3 bites of vanilla Sweet 16 cake

a few more bites of a slice of chocolate cake

1 Dos Equis w/lemonade and lime

water

I feel better than I should. Probably because I drank water before bed.

"Cinco de Mayo" means "Party" in Spanish, right?

My state, as of right now, is something along the lines of where-is-the-bed-so-I-can-coma-for-5-hours, with a mix of I'm-worrying-about-my-giddy-behavior-last-night, as there were too many boys eyeing me at once. Which, you know, is always good for the ol' ego.

I can't believe I'm typing this sentence out because it makes me feel like a plastic little party whore that skimps around in thongs and lip liner and then screams about which guys have hairy asses (quite the opposite of me): but, I drank a bit last night, which is good since I was around people who drank a whole lot more than me. Like, a freakish amount, so I fit right in. Around 40 loud people from the Film School (the majority of them a bit emo, and a few outsiders who tagged along) crammed into a small kitchen, living room, hallway, and balcony. The perfect setting for great fun. Literally every posse who walked through the door to join brought some alcoholic goodies like the Cinco de Mayo fairies. I had an entire bottle of Dos Equis with lime, but that's all. Just enough to calm my nerves since SF did tell Friend he was coming and I wanted to be prepared. Some friend's jaws dropped as I propped the beer bottle on the table and crammed in an entire slice of lime through the neck to a chorus of, "Whoa!" because they were shocked to see me holding alcohol. One of them even asked if it was water in there. Um, no, because that would be a lame use of a beer bottle.

I haven't laughed with so much ease in weeks. Or, you know, since the last party I attended, which was Ted's ridiculous birthday party in the Hills where DJ Beach Boy showed up and gave us a free live performance for a crowd of about 50 to 60.

About two and a half hours in I was so buzzed I was practically vibrating with joy and S leaned over and hissed, "There's a midget in the room." "What?!" I squealed. And, holy crap, he wasn't lying! Standing behind L was indeed a shirtless midget! Huzzah! The party was complete.

So. After being taunted by Ted, saying I was in love with him, O throwing bottle caps at C and C thinking it was me and screaming at me and then winking like the sly mofo he is, getting two phone numbers, eyeing a pair of Josh Hutcherson-lookalike twins, getting cake frosting thrown on me by C, watching BB bash a little pinata in the head, getting my car the heck out of the Ralph's parking lot and reparking it, getting thrown around by C (literally, he threw me on the couch), watching Sam the little person teach me how to play poker, and being kept company by BB after everyone left while I waited for Friend's bed to be unoccupied, I crawled under the covers next to Friend at 3:45 am and knocked out as she cried (that story is another novel on its own). Of course it was about a guy. She asked, if she was a lesbian, if I would be her girlfriend and I said yes, of course. She stopped crying. Problem solved.

There's a desert on my face...

I have naturally dry skin and I'm the only person I know with this diagnosis other than my mother, which is quite odd. Everyone else I know has "oily," "greasy," or "combination." Maybe it's a Puerto Rican-Irish mix thing? Mixed ethnicities tend to result in fantastic skin.

Anywho, I've spent the passed few weeks on a perfect-foundation hunt since learning that it's beneficial to wear make up so that your bare skin has a small layer of protection from sun and air toxins. Good idea, thought I.

Yesterday Friend and I drove to a Glendale mall for two things 1.) my foundation, and 2.) so Friend could reintroduce her lip ring that's been vacant of metal for quite a while. First I sat down at a Benefit counter (I hate it when you get stuck with those one-branders) and got some make up put on my cheeks and nose. The woman and I noticed my face was rather dry that day, resulting in little flakes around my nose and forehead. She moisturized me but it was still a little visible and the wet foundation she put on didn't have much coverage, so I politely abandoned Benefit as an option.

Sephora was was where I finally felt saved. An accented woman helped me in my search and first put their Sephora brand make up on my face in the lightest shade (I don't mind being pale). I still wasn't seeing the evenness I wanted, so we tried Stila. Stila foundation looked more like I had make up on. Then, thankfully, we resorted to Laura Mercier tinted moisturizer with SPF. I'd read about it's amazingness online. She put it on with one of those smooth spongey things and it was immediately cooling and refreshing and dewey. Oooh! It made my face all one color, like there were no flaws whatsoever. Mine. So mine. I grabbed it even though it was $42. Oh well, where else would I get something like this? And to help with the flaky dryness, I also grabbed a microexfoliater from Philosophy for $32. The two together pretty much make face magic.

Ugh. Blast you, fried food.

By the end of the day, I felt compelled to do some crunches and push ups on the floor of Friend's apartment. In a dress. I think it worked because I felt the same this morning. Not bloated or anything. Woo!

Mon 5.3.10

1 pack of 3 vitamin C gummies

1 small bowl of white rice with soy sauce

4 TJ egg rolls (I was starving)

1/2 bag of TJ cheese puffs (damn things)

1/2 bottle of Pom lychee peach tea

water

3 vegan chocolate chip cookies

Ok, I think that's all...

Hacking my brain for what I've learned about relationships.

Even though 4 months is somewhat of a puny timeframe compared to other relationships, you can learn a lot about yourself in that time. It was like being in the military or some new universal club, like new mothers, and you can't be in it till you're in it. Yeah, relationships are like that.

1. If he's independent, he's not going to include you as much as you'd like. Unless, you know, he's a freaking genius. SF was very independent of others. His mother called him 6 times a day and yet I only saw him answer her call about 3 times in those 4 months. Same with his father, who resorted to Facebooking him to get his attention sometimes. Yeah, it made me feel only a little special that he chose me to spend most of his time with, but once we went back to our schedules and couldn't see each other for entire days, I would only receive a text if I sent one asking a question. Kind of depressing. It was like luring in a puppy by dangling a treat in front of it all over again.

2. Outsiders are going to be bias, especially if they're you're girlfriends. I made the mistake of telling Friend and Roomie almost everything that happened to us on a daily basis. Getting that much feedback from girls who don't know who you're dating as well as you do is not exactly healthy and warps your decision making. So keep the minor things to yourself and only get their opinions on things that really do need a second opinion.

3. The only people who know what it's like to be in your relationship are the ones that are in it. Every relationship is different. There are only a few that have the cookie-cutter lifestyle of the perfect couple and almost all of us aspire to be Jack & Rose. Otherwise they differ, from decimals to whole numbers. So do what feels right for your specific situation instead of feeding off completely different ones, especially if they're more progressed then yours.

4. Women will almost always be more loving and caring and a thousand times more sensitive. It's in our nature. If he hasn't bought you flowers and chocolates yet, you better squash that dream to hell because it may not happen for a while. Too-high expectations are couple-killers, they really are. And even though it's hard to refrain yourself from thinking ahead or wondering what your engagement ring will look like, you have to think more realistically than anything. It will keep you much happier and less likely to have so many "talks."

5. I have no idea what I'm doing! You have to help me here! My situation, as I've just realized, did not crash and burn because of me, or because of him either. It was mainly because I had no idea how to be in a relationship and I only let him know once. He, on the other hand, was much more experienced, so I trusted him with certain situations like the texting thing (damn technology) and the date thing and almost everything else. I thought, Oh, this must be how you do it. Um, no. If you're confused about something, get some clarity because sooner or later you're going to start comparing yourself and feeling like a dumbass cyclops.

6. If something is bugging you, let it be known immediately. Don't "wait for the right time" because there isn't going to be one till it's too late. Oh yeah, I've done this way too many times. And every time I fantasize about what his reaction will be and if it will escalate to an argument. It never did. Ever. SF almost never got angry. It's not in his DNA, which is why he tends to smile, stay quiet, or crack a joke rather than interrogate. So unless you know your guy to be rather controlling, I doubt any movie-worthy argument will break out over a simple inquiry about your status. Guys are usually on the calm side unless they have a reason to become heated. So I'll spell it out for you: don't give him a reason. He'll understand.

7. Remain the cool girl he asked out rather than sinking into a needy little hover bee that won't leave him alone. Not that this happened to me, but it happens all the time to the most awesome girls. And the thing is, the girl doesn't normally acknowledge when this happens. The people who do are her boyfriend and the onlookers. It's so noticeable it's ridiculous.

If Anyone Has Not Seen Panic Room Yet, You Must Do So. Now.

Yesterday I watched Panic Room in all its grey-blue, clever, eerie glory. It came out in 2002 so for those of you who need a refresher, it's about a single mother (Jodie Foster) and young teenage daughter (an adorable Kristen Stewart) who move into a large and slightly lavish apartment in the upper west side of New York City. While going to view the apartment with realtors, they discover its "amenities" include 4 stories, I believe, a large sky light, French-style doors, a handicapped elevator (from the previous owner), spacious bedrooms and kitchen, oh, and in the master bedroom is a "panic room." Because a home isn't a home without a steel box you can hide use as a hidey-hole to view any intruders or terrorists or dinosaurs that may come charging through without permission demanding to sit in that steel box with you. And that's exactly what happens. On their first night in the new apartment. Of the intruders are Forest Whitaker as the smart softy, Jared Leto (with cornrows?) as the is-he-on-crack? leader of the pack, and a masked Dwight Yoakam, who is perfect as a nonchalant master robber. And what do they want? Three million dollars that's locked in a safe in the panic room! When do they want it? Now!

As soon as the threesome entered the house and Meg (Jodie) and Sarah Altman (Kristen) are watching them from the eight TV monitors inside, I found myself screaming and groaning and hissing at my laptop screen (I watched it on the Internet, okay?) with my big white headphones on, as most David Fincher films cause me to do. "Turn it on, turn it on! Go, go, go, go, get up! What are you doing?! Stop flashing the light! He's just gonna close the curtain! Stop it! Grab it! Light it!" probably sounding like I was playing the PS2. Thank goodness Roomie2 wasn't home for that.

According to Wikipedia, the screen writer, David Koepp, harvested the idea of the film due to a newspaper article in the New York Times in which they called the room a "safe room," but changed the name to "panic room" since the story was a thriller. Mighty good idea, sir. Most entertaining. I give this movie a "That was insane" out of 10.

The Average Munchy Food Diary.

Thank God Roomie is back so I can start working out again.

Sun 5.2.10

1 toasted peanut butter w/honey sandwich

4 TJ fried vegetable nests with soy dipping sauce

1 cup of fruit medley (watermelon, cantaloupe, strawberry, blueberry, kiwi, mango, pineapple)

1/2 bottle of Pom peach lychee tea

2/3 small bag of easter M&Ms

1 chocolate ladybug

(a handful?) of In N Out french fries

The Day-Of Food Diary.

I didn't eat a thing till about noon. Bad idea. I can't wait till Roomie gets back so I'll have a work out partner.

Sat 5.1.10

1 TJ vegetable egg roll

4 TJ fried vegetable nests w/soy dipping sauce (amazing)

2 TJ little brownies

1/2 glass TJ apple juice

1 small bowl TJ frozen bowtie pasta w/veggies

water

Pom peach white tea

I Am Now Entitled to Act Single. Very, very single.

Remind me to never act upon my impulses again so I can refrain from having a 100-lb regret hunch. As of 11:30 am this morning, I told SF that I think we should try dating again, focusing on how happy this made me inside since, you know, I figured the ball was in my court. I could tell within two seconds that this came as somewhat of a shock to SF here, which I tried to ignore and find the right words to make him understand. All my self-conscious, hesitant rambling boiled down to, "I still like you." After a long pause from him, he said he'd give it today to think about it. Bam. [Insert wrong answer buzz here.]

And just like that, the child in me was shot straight to hell, lying in a heap of ash and dead leaves with an arrow in her chest, tongue hanging out and all (that's probably the best way to describe it). It didn't help matters that I had a head and neck ache from sleeping so awkwardly these passed few days.

"Give me today to think about it," he says. And I know, just from that line, that we will never, ever, ever, ever, ever, get back together again. I won't even sleep in his bed ever again or go in his car or ask for a favor only he would say yes to. And that's okay, because I got what ever I needed from him in the 4 months we were together anyway... at least that's what keeps me from feeling quite sad about all this.

One minute we were laughing at phonetic lyric videos on YouTube, the next I leap out of his bed, pull my jeans on and grab my stuff like I'm late for the next happy part of my life to get here already. He dropped me off at my building and I wanted so badly to say, "Forget what I said. I was being stupid," before marching off. But I didn't. The opportunity came yet my mouth wouldn't open. There was a tightness in my chest keeping it in. But the marching off did happen, and so did the suppressed crying, as confused as I was about that. I couldn't pinpoint it to one thing; there were too many reasons to justify it.... He doesn't like me anymore.

Ah well. I'm already over it.