Bring it, 2011!

So, I probably won't be graduating college this year, but just barely, so I'm not "Class of 2011" but I sure as hell will be "Ass kicker of 2011!" This is going to be a strong year for me, I can feel it. Last year was great, and so this year has to be super great. I intend to hit the ground running. Literally and figuratively. Literally, because I am a girl and must therefore uphold the tradition of vowing to lose weight in the new year. Of course, this will be pushed from my mind by February, so I just have to get a smoking hot bod in January. Figuratively, because I am going to get moving on all the things I have to offer the world, and because if I don't focus, I will never get out of Cal State Fullerton. CSUF is specially designed to let you stay FOREVER. But not me!

Sure, I'm currently in my fourth year, and it doesn't seem I'll be graduating at the end of it, but there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and when you consider I've had five majors, and ran away to Chicago for a semester, it's pretty impressive I intend to graduate at all.

Also, world, I would love to provide you with comedy and music this year, so I am getting my ducks in a row for that.

So here is the basic version of my list, please don't feel cheated if I choose to withhold some blush-inducing details…

2011 New Year's Resolutions:

-Lose weight (generic girl requirement met)

-Finish on campus classes at Cal State Fullerton

-Line up the perfect internship

-Travel!

-Europe

-Las Vegas

-New York

-Write more

-songs

-novel

-Finish Album

-start new album

-Play more gigs

-Get together a super comedy group of brilliance!

My 2010 list

Today is a great day to reflect on 2010 and look excitedly toward 2011. I love making lists, so it will be a complete delight for me to make my New Year's Resolutions, but as my cousin pointed out, why not list the accomplishments of 2010 too? So here they are:

My 2010:

-I lived in Chicago IL, my first time being so far from home for so long.

-I studied at Second City Chicago for a semester that culminated in my first sketch

review show.

-I took classes at the Annoyance Theater and The Old Town School of Folk Music.

-I tried Belly dancing.

-While in Chicago, I wrote a new sketch and tried a new stand-up set every week.

-I came home to California and moved to LA.

-I turned 21, drank copiously and became thoroughly at ease with drinking establishments.

-I finished recording an album (which I still haven't released, but that'll be next year…) and wrote enough songs for a couple more albums.

-I completed my comedy training at io.

-I taught group guitar lessons to nine-year-olds and made it out alive.

-I completed another semester at Cal State Fullerton.

-I started this blog as an outlet for my writing.

-I started a million new projects that I will happily put on my To-do List for 2011.

True Grit Review

Rating system (out of five):

Stars = measures the film's cinematic quality.

Hearts = measures the film's enjoyability.

Bowls of Ice cream = measures the numbers of bowls of ice cream it would require to get me to watch the film again.

First off, let me say that I have never seen the original True Grit, so I am reviewing this movie completely independently. I knew the original had John Wayne in it, so I walked in thinking, "Ah, a western. I like westerns. The preview looked cool. My, this seat is nice and squashy." This, I believe, is about as close to a neutral start as someone can have. Neutral as I may have started, it took mere moments before a new thought dominated my brain. Something akin to, "Oh no."

Okay, let's talk about the dialogue in this movie. They made a clear choice not to use contractions. A distracting choice, but a bold move. From the moment the film started, the characters began speaking like strange western Yodas, and though I love Star Wars dearly, it was hard to understand what this vernacular was doing in this film. In my earnest attempt to explain it away, I hoped it was an effort to be true to the language of the period. I'm no expert in linguistics, and thus I have no idea when contractions came into fashion, but I do know a few snuck into the dialogue, and shattered the desperate reasoning I had been feeding myself. Why!? Why no contractions? If the iconic use of verbs like "hangin'" and "shootin'" made the cut, why abandoned the words we associate with all speech, like "couldn't"? As though to antagonize my growing irritation at the strange robot-talk, at one point in the movie, a character said something along the lines of "Old am I." This quote is directly lifted from the endearing syntax errors committed by our lovable, Degobah inhabiting, Jedi master. There had to have been a point where SOMEONE realized how much it is to ask of an audience to endure this alien twist of language in a western.

There were many points, while watching this film, that I sat feeling confused, wondering what experience I was supposed to be having. I experienced very little emotionally. There were some well designed tense moments, and the script was clever, when I could look beyond the Yoda-talk. In fact, with jokes being the only thing moving in the story, it often felt like a very slow comedy. It surely didn't feel like a serious film, with nothing being particularly stirring, and even revenge being sought for pride, rather then love. I couldn't lock into place at any point in this film. I don't think this film knew where it wanted to lock it's viewers; a sentiment that would be admirable were it in the pursuit of imitating reality. Sadly, that was not the case.

One character briefly graced the screen that interested me. A rough and tough cowboy who only spoke in animal sounds. Where is his film? It would be far more interesting to watch a slice out of his life. Tragically, he was a fleeting glimmer of intrigue in a sea of boring, confused, monotonous story, only broken up by startling gun fire.

My rating:

1 Star

1 Heart

4 Bowls of Icecream

Review at a Glance: True Grit

They didn't use contractions. Zero stars.

New Year's Resolution Song

A little Ditty to ring in the new year. Happy Holidays :-)

Christmas

The last week leading up to Christmas was a blur. The day Kelsey and I got home from our well earned mini-break, I headed straight to the mall, my fantastic, though slightly disgruntled boyfriend in tow. The days were murky with panicked shoppers and pouring rain making everything confusing and wet. The evenings were lovely. One was spent at a ruckus party with friends, and the next night was a quiet gathering at my place where we put together stockings for underprivileged children. Booze and charitable activities, my two favorite holiday traditions.

From there, a sprint to Christmas. Wrapping presents, seeing family, making toys. Lovely.

Some of the ruckus party in which I look much more big pimpin' then I should.

Karaoke...

Kelsey and I by the tree.

No More Finals! How About Palm Springs.

Ah, the weekend after finals. Lovely. I became a bit loopy during my studies. I managed to work in some quality Christmas nerd-ing, but I kept one eye on a book for most of the week and preceding weekend. Having so many film finals added a considerable amount of time taken up by watching movies as well, so I was pleased at having my organizational skills tested, and coming out victorious! I have a well-worn and well-checked check list to document this.

In a poetic continuance of my mad skills at completing things, on the same day I finished my last final of the semester, I had my last class show at io. I am now an io training program graduate with a diploma and all to prove it. I'm ready to go pro. Pro improv. It was a great way to end a week that felt very accomplished! The post show drinks didn't hurt either...

Now I am smack in the middle of my celebration weekend with Kelsey! Kelsey and I have been best friends since we were in the first grade, and this weekend we are celebrating the end of finals with a weekend in Palm Springs. We just got back from the pool and I'm waiting for my turn in the shower. Pictures are coming soon and hilarity will ensue. For right now we are both just completely content to be done for winter break. Hooray!

Christmas Finals

Ahh, fall semester finals. Lovely little stress bomb.

Oh! What's that around the corner? Do you see it? It's Christmas, and it may be around the corner still, but it's pre-parade is dancing around everywhere, begging you to join in the merriment. But you can't give in, not completely anyway because you have finals, and unfortunately the timeline is just off so you can't ask Santa to cancel them for Christmas.

You'll get yours, finals. Just you wait, next week I am kicking ass and taking names. You've been warned.

Tangled Review

Rating system (out of five):

Stars = measures the film's cinematic quality.

Hearts = measures the film's enjoyability.

Bowls of Ice cream = measures the numbers of bowls of ice cream it would require to get me to watch the film again.

Hooray for Disney Princess Movies! Now, a part of me is crushed that the tale of Rapunzel has now been told. I always dreamed of being the voice of a Disney Princess. I'd get to sing and be a princess, what more could a girl want? I always thought Rapunzel would be my big break. The one classic, untold princess story, but alas, it was made into a fabulous movie.

Now, a much bigger, though more child-like part of me is very excited this movie exists. It was wonderful, all the charm and pizzaz one hopes to find in a disney movie. So delightful. The movie is sweet and fun and has a very uplifting girl power undertone that is always appreciated by me.

This movie and Princess and the Frog are two Disney musicals that were made after a long period without any musicals. I enjoyed The Princess and the Frog, but the songs were not as memorable as Disney songs have been in the past, they weren't hits. I thought Tangled did a better job with the songs. There were definitely a few really catchy numbers, but there were still a few unmemorable songs stuck in here and there.

Overall I absolutely loved it, and who knows, maybe after a few viewings the songs will get stuck in my head after all.

Rating:

4 1/2 Stars

5 Hearts

0 Bowls of Ice cream

Beautiful

Today, my boyfriend told me I was beautiful, and I believed him. Part of me believed him because he is good to me and I trust him, but another part of me believed him because before him other men told me I was beautiful, and before them my best girlfriends told me I was beautiful, and before them my parents told me I was beautiful, so that even on my lowest days, a part of me remembers that I am beautiful.

I can tell you right now, there are things about me that aren't beautiful. I'm short, with barely any torso between my legs and boobs. Remember crop tops? Out of the question for me. My feet are square shaped and one of them has a permanent scar from surgery when I broke it last year. Goodbye strappy sandals. My fingers are stubby, with calluses on my left hand from guitar playing and chomped on, super short nails. So my hand-modeling ship has sailed. And that's not all, even things I like about myself, others have said are unbecoming. My eyes are too big, my hair is too short, my eyelashes look too spidery. Yet, even when I'm feeling bloated, scarfing down a pancake that is larger then my head, or even if I haven't showered, my hair is stringy and I wouldn't dream of going out in public, a part of me still knows I'm beautiful.

A very dear friend of mine is going under the knife next week to change the way she looks. This friend is a knock-out, I had to stop bringing her around my old apartment because my roommate was so close to jumping her. She's charming and fun and smart, and absolutely beautiful. I think there are a lot of little things that we don't think to say to people we are close to. Mom knows I think she's funny, Dad knows I respect him, and my friends know that I think they are beautiful, but maybe those are things that should be heard. I am not judging this friend for her decision, it's her decision to make. I know everyone is different, and wants different things, but I really hope that this girl that I grew up depending on, caring about, and sometimes feeling jealous of knows that she's already beautiful.

Adventure Snail

I awoke yesterday morning to find the top of my car literally covered in nature. I had parked under a tree so bird droppings, leaves and flower pods rested merrily on my sunroof. Being eager to get on the road to school, I let the wind resistance take care of what it could as I drove off toward Cal State Fullerton.

I had been going for a while when I noticed it: a little tiny snail clinging to my windshield. He was so cute, I began to feel guilty for not setting him in a bush before I left, but he had escaped my notice. I imagined him there, clinging for his life, praying to start a new life in a bush near the Nutwood Parking Structure. I was rooting for the little guy, after all, he didn't want to be carried away from home on my car…

…or did he? Suddenly my frightened little hostage became visible in a new light. This was no timid snail, oh no, this was a world adventurer! A refugee from France that had become addicted to the thrill of life. I saw him there, smiling at the journey to come, his little antenna blowing cheerfully in the wind. This was my kind of snail. I became inspired by him, deciding I would help him realize his dream by placing him in an exotic bush on campus, and then find an adventure for me to get into. I get to feeling displaced longings when I don't have adventure, and this little adrenaline junky of a snail inspired me.

When I got to campus, I discovered my friend was actually a bird dropping in the shape of a snail… but the message of the snail shaped dropping stayed with me none the less. Life, fair warning, prepare to be looked boldly in the face.

The Hollywood Christmas Parade

The streets of Hollywood were lined with bundled, smiling people, bustling about, familiarizing themselves with the clever and infrequently attempted "walking in LA." A few youngsters hit the pavement, but for the most part the vehicle-deprived populace did well for themselves.

Peppered throughout the crowd were street vendors offering cotton candy, glow-in-the-dark toys and delicious smelling, though tragically non-vegetarian hot dogs, which brings me to my personal favorite part of the evening:

I had been sniffing longingly toward a hot dog vendors sizzling stand when out of nowhere four carts, still a-sizzle sped toward my local vendor who promptly sprung into action, and all five of them raced down an alley. Now, I have never bared witness to an impromptu hot dog vendor race; I was baffled and dazzled at once. Filled with delight, I looked around, hoping to catch another leg of the race in action. Instead, I saw two chortling police officers walking up the street, they paused to shine their flashlights threateningly down the alley, laugh to themselves again, then continue up the street. I was pleased to see the officers as delighted by the sport as I was, but also glad no one got in trouble, after all, where else would people get mid-parade snacks?

The air was full of excitement, right from the beginning, and that is the very best part of a parade. My Fantastic Boyfriend and I took the metro into Hollywood so we wouldn't have to deal with traffic. For those of you that don't know what the metro is, it's like The El or The Subway but without the people.

Being all bundled up and riding public transit took me right back to Chicago, swimming in lovely memories which My Fantastic Boyfriend indulged by looking politely less bored then usual by the stories he has heard many times.

After acquiring delicious, warm, chocolatey and, in my case, espresso filled beverages, we settled into a perfect viewing location near sunset on vine. We were just far enough away from the commentators that we could choose to decipher the muddled, distantly amplified words or not on a case by case basis. We had a completely clear view in front of us, and with some delicately choreographed head bobbing, could see what was to come as well.

The parade was wonderful! For the most part, it was an alternating pattern of high schools' band and color-guard teams, vaguely familiar celebrities and politicians riding in convertibles, and group sponsored giant balloons.

Poor poor color-guard girls. I thought this when I was in high school, heck I thought this when I was in junior high and it was the deciding factor that kept me from joining color guard: they are forced to where the most awful uniforms I've ever seen. Who is designing these? skin tight unitards? Really? Has anyone ever felt confident in a skin tight unitard, let alone the poor girls who are in high school, experiencing the most self-conscious period of their life! Occasionally we'd see a reasonable design. A flawy, well moving dress, for example that highlighted the girls as dancers over flag carriers, but the costume maker tripped at the finish-line by choosing brown, beige, and yellow to color the garment. This is my call to action! Come on color-guard uniform designers: Step It Up!

Among the convertible celebrities, I was delighted to see Corbin Bensen, the dad from Psych, and none other then Santa Paws, everyone's favorite furry, holiday friend.

The balloons were a good time. The scientology pirate balloon was the only thing that passed with silence from the crowd, but the rest of the balloons were sponsored by good causes. We were near a corner on the parade route, so it was extra exciting to watch the balloon handlers work to clear the buildings as they changed directions. Many a windblown, animated character balloon nearly met a grizzly end on it's way to sunset blvd.

The best part of the parade was a float of it's own category, the star of which was Dick Van Dyke! Everyone loves Dick Van Dyke! Everyone. He was smiling and waving and merry and everything you want Dick Van Dyke to be. All around his float, men dressed in outfits that echoed "Bert" wore in Mary Poppins, and dancing in Dick Van Dyke's classic style. It was wonderful.

By the time Santa went by, wishing us a Merry Christmas and asking us if we'd been good, our noses and toeses were ready for new poses, of the warmer variety, so we followed the parade down the street until we found a place to eat and warm up before heading home.

All in all, a wonderful holiday activity that I heartily recommend.

Happy Faux-giving

Please note the sloppy, fresh out of the shower, into the kitchen hair and the fearful face.

Happy Faux-giving

For the love of living Turkeys, this years' Thanksgiving was exhausting. My family decided to celebrate a couple days early to accommodate all the various family members being pulled in different directions, which worked out quite well for the most part.

Tuesday morning, or "Faux-giving" as I have dubbed it, I woke to find out my mom was too sick to prepare the meal. This was a serious problem being that she intended to prepare almost all of the meal… Instead, my cousin, her husband and I donned the aprons and got to work.

I have been a vegetarian since I was fifteen, so I don't have the slightest clue of where to start when comes to preparing meat. I am a mediocre cook when it comes to the vegetable and italian dishes I am used to preparing, but a Turkey? I have no clue. My cousin, though brilliant in the kitchen, is also a vegetarian of sorts, so neither of us were particularly thrilled about preparing meat, so we stuck with the many starchy accompaniments to the meat. My cousin-in-law handled the Turkey, while my cousin and I bustled about cooking a traditional (sans the meatless stuffing) Thanksgiving feast.

Wednesday was a day of rest.

Thursday it was back in the kitchen to make my mom's famous mac n' cheese for My Fantastic Boyfriend's family's Thanksgiving. I think it turned out pretty well if I don't say so myself and even that I do say so myself.

Happy Faux-giving and Thanksgiving!

Harry Potter 7 Review

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows Part 1 Review

Rating system (out of five):

Stars = measures the film's cinematic quality.

Hearts = measures the film's enjoyability.

Bowls of Ice cream = measures the numbers of bowls of ice cream it would cost to get me to watch the film again

I was eleven when I first read the first Harry Potter book, I devoured it, and reveled in Harry (a fellow eleven year old) and my shared experiences and lamented the year of my life that was passing without receiving a Hogwarts letter. So it began that Harry and I would grow up together, many of the books coming out with Harry and I at the same age. I have a summer birthday and desire for adventure too, so we understood each other. I also had a tremendous crush on Ron, a trait I shared more with Hermione then Harry. Oh Ron, such a lovable goober.

I was thirteen when the first Harry Potter movie came out, and though the characters were back to eleven, the actors playing them were all the same age as me, and so another group of people I would grow up with emerged.

I sat with my cousin in the car, in the line, in the theater, waiting and waiting and then so delighted. My magical world that I had become a part of by myself reading was now up on the big screen to be shared by everyone. I yearned to have a cup of coffee in DIagon Alley, to take a quick flight on a broomstick and to have a beautiful snowy owl deliver my mail. I was dazzled by the first movie. All six of the movies prior to the newly release Deathly Hollows Part 1 are classic favorites of mine. I watch them again and again, through the second Dumbledore's terrible acting and the overlooked cherished chapters that were not explored on film, I loved whatever they gave me in these movies because I love these books.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows Part 1 was incredible. I am now speaking with the full weight of my nerdom and film studentry combined, it was fabulous. Separating the seventh book into two movies gave the film a wonderful pace that accelerated properly with action sequences, without ever feeling rushed to the end. It was tender, lonely, vulnerable, sweet, sentimental, magical, exciting, suspenseful. I could go on and on. I'm sure not having to work too much with that terrible "Dumbledore" impostor made things easier on everyone as well... man I don't like that guy.

I saw it the night of its release and have every intention of returning to the theater for subsequent viewings.

My rating:

5 Stars

5 Hearts

0 Bowls of Ice cream

Frumpgirl: the origins

Good Morning Readers!

Today I woke up at a lovely and leisurely 10:30, allowing myself a bit of extra sleep to prepare for the all-night Harry Potter extravaganza I have planned with my best friend. We've been besties since the first grade and are still doing this kind of silly activity at 21, but this is why we are bestest friends :-)

Anyway, while I slumbered this morning, enjoying an extra REM cycle filled with hippogriffs, broom sticks, and butter beer, a man was creeping about my apartment complex hanging signs. Now, my dreams were not to be darkened by this sign, as I slept blissfully through a warning text message about the sign, the sign placement itself, and all the negative energy from others in reaction to the sign. No dream darkening for me! I rolled out of bed at 10:30 with a smile on my face and a Hogwarts letter in my heart, until I reached my shower and something went horribly wrong. You see, a shower is a device that pours water on you and makes you clean. That's it's function, that's how it rolls, but it would seem mine had forgotten it's duty.

Now, after copious investigation, the sign is revealed. "Water turned off from 10:00 - 2:00" TEN TIL TWO!! ARE THEY CRAZY? Oh well, time to catch up on all my dishe-.... well, I could do my laundr.... Fine! I'll sit and frumpily write until 2! Take that sign! You're not gonna bring me down! I have nerd fest tonight! Nothing is going to ruin that for me! Nothing!!! Cheers.

Same Old Shit

I am freshening up my life a bit lately. A favorite teacher of mine in Chicago once told me to only work on projects that are trying to be beautiful. If it succeeds in being beautiful, it's beautiful and if it fails, it's funny. That's art. I love this idea, and since coming home as a new girl in an old place, I've been trying to make my life art.

I bid farewell to something that was hard for me to let go of Thursday night. I have been performing with a group for almost four years and though I love them dearly, it was time for me to move on. Thursday night was my last show and in an effort to (if possible, beautifully) release all the emotions surrounding this experience I wrote and haphazardly recorded this song Friday. I then spent most of the day trying to figure out how to get it onto the internet and am just now celebrating my victory.

Out of Gas Adventure

I'm not sure if you have ever asked yourself, "What would it be like to do a wheeley in my car?" I know I haven't, and yet I found out just the same! Hooray!

I ran out of gas on the freeway last night. Dumb, I know, but I don't have a gas light and could have sworn I checked and it looked okay before I left. In any case, I ran out. My car started sputtering and I threw on my hazards to make my way to the far right or maybe even (so hopeful) off the freeway! Upon noticing my hazards, the surrounding cars on the 405 promptly and politely raced around me, honking at any attempt of mine to change lanes. I made it all the way to the far right lane (there was no shoulder) before my car came to a halt, teasingly close to an exit, but not quite close enough.

I called triple A, then sat and waited in my car as the rest of the fish raced up stream. Every other car honked or flashed their brights at me, assuming quite justifiably that I had chosen to stop in the middle of the freeway with my hazards on to make a phone call and thus avoid the trouble that talking on your phone while driving will get you. A brilliant plan I will remember for next time.

When the tow guy finally got there, he pulled in front of me at the same time a cop pulled up behind me. The cop entered the scene with authoritative words over his loud speaker encouraging me to "move along." Helpful advice that I wished I could adhere to but before I could respond, the tow truck lifted the front of my car with me still in it! He then came up to my car to tell me not to touch anything, then the cop came up to the other side of my car to ask me what the big idea was, when I told him I had run out of gas, he nodded knowingly, then repeated his catch phrase, "move along"

I moved along. Not of any of my own ability, but I moved along, and I now know what a fancy trick my car can do, With the help of a tow truck.

Due Date Review

Rating system (out of five):

Stars = measures the film's cinematic quality.

Hearts = measures the film's enjoyability.

Bowls of Ice cream = measures the numbers of bowls of ice cream it would require to get me to watch the film again.

My heart pounding, vision hyper focused, my sense of peril consumed me. The moment fast approaching, I threw my arms out and cried "No!" but as always, the characters on the big scene ignored my helpful, desperate, advice and I endured another wave of stressful discomfort.

While watching the movie "Due Date" I buried my head into the side of My Fantastic Boyfriend's arm exactly seven times, I cried twice, felt a consistent wool of stress wrapped around me during every scene, and peppered through-out enjoyed spouts of genuine laughter.

The brilliance of this film is it's ability to keep it's audience engaged and invested throughout the film. Believe me, it would have been much easier on my poor heart if I were not taken in throughout the film, but the dynamic acting and storytelling would not let me out so easily.

I entered the theater with limited knowledge of what to expect. I came in expecting Robert Downey Jr., Zach Galifianakis, and a baby. Those promises were fulfilled. I did not come in expecting to yell at the screen with reckless disregard for the packed theater around me, but that promise, too, was fulfilled. My roommate compared the comedic stylings to that of "Curb Your Enthusiasm" to which I replied "Blech! I can't watch that show, it's too frustrating." perhaps your reaction to that sways you differently, and you decide to see this movie twelve times in theaters. Well, to that I can only respond, "Blech! I don't understand you."

All in all, I'd say this movie is definitely worth seeing once. Not necessarily in theaters, unless you have a date coming up and you are looking for a film that will bring up the important topics of friendship, family and masturbation. I'm serious, there will be masturbation, and don't get excited straight men and lesbians, the participant is not female. Those who are attracted to men and dogs may get excited at their own discretion.

My rating:

4 Stars

3 Hearts

3 Bowls of Ice Cream

Thing I Like #4

I had the most amazing breakfast this morning! My Fantastic Boyfriend and I went to eat at this little diner I had seen a sign for and it was delightful! The staff was all adorable and sweet and clearly enjoyed working there. My evidence: across the restaurant from us a bunch of waiters and busboys were singing happy birthday to a table. Meanwhile, nowhere near that, cleaning the table next to ours, a busboy was cheerfully singing along to the birthday boy. It was adorable.

I had a lovely cup of coffee and the Popeye Breakfast Burrito with potatoes, all of which I heartily recommend and now, may I present:

Thing #4 I like about the Valley:

More Than Waffles

Subcategory:

Singing Busboys

Thing #3

Another day, another adventure in The Valley. Fridays are lovely as I don't have class, and I have nothing but weekend ahead, which gives me plenty of time to ignore my homework and pursue less important pastures. Today, I would have strutted off in my usual aimless direction, were it not for a pesky bomb threat blocking my path. Classy, The Valley. Real classy. Whilst everything to the left of my apartment was being evacuated, I journeyed to the right. Apparently, I chose wisely, because I found a Yogurtland! I am so pleased. Yogurtland is the best. Which brings us to...

Thing #3 I like about The Valley:

When one side of the street closes, another opens.

Bra Heaven

I went to bra heaven today. It's a bra shop called "A Perfect Fit." It was a spiritual place, a mysterious place, a place I would not have believed existed were it not for seeing it myself. You may or may not know this, but it is common practice for busty women to have very few bra options. More specifically, busty women who are still small around the middle have only two options: 1.) a bra that doesn't fit or 2.) a bra that kinda fits but resembles a very boring soup bowl… well, two soup bowls connected by string, which would be much more interesting then the bra.

The point: bra shopping sucks for the petite and busty. But not at bra heaven! So many choices! And cute choices! I went home very pleased with my purchases, but not before getting a pedicure to match my first and only matching bra and panty set! Hooray! I love being a girl.

Han Solo Sighting

I was two feet away from Han Solo last night! HAN SOLO! It was awesome. My Fantastic Boyfriend got my dad and I into the greenroom for Jimmy Kimmel Live (he is a writer's assistant on the show) and Mr. Indiana Jones himself walked in right behind us. He walked by a couple more times, thus we got this fabulous shot of the back of my head and him walking toward the studio. Please don't judge the back of my head from this photo, it was a little nervous to be so close to Harrison Ford.

Things I like #1 & #2

There is a little flower shop across the street from my apartment that has a marquee out front, and every day they put up a different first name on the board. If it is your name, you get a free rose. It is a very cute idea and I am huge fan. On Halloween, they put up my fantastic boyfriend's name and so I got this lovely rose to put out with my pumpkins and treats.

This launches into a special section of my blog I will refer to as "A Hundred Things I like about the Valley," in which I will attempt to find a hundred things I like about The Valley. A lofty endeavor, I realize. The valley is not a terrible place to live, it just has hefty competition with the last two places I lived. My last apartment was in Chicago, which is where I am meant to be, it's wonderful there. For details see my other neglected and boring blog, or have a ten minute conversation with me and it's bound to come up. My apartment before that was in Fullerton, another place I think is fabulous. I still go to Cal State Fullerton, so I'm there enough that I still frequently participate in the ridiculously wonderful towny stuff, but after those two fantastic places:

Here I am. Encino. Now I'm a Val. But that's okay, I am determined to come up with a hundred things I like in the Valley, starting with:

1.) My Fantastic Boyfriend

He lives in the valley as well, in fact, he used to live in my room two inhabitants ago. It's very convenient to have him know where everything is near me. Plus he is fantastic.

2.) Casa de Flores

The Adorable Flower shop across the street from me.

Dear Candy and Wine

Dear Bowls of Candy and Glasses of Wine,

I know it was Halloween last night, and I had some friends over, but really, you guys were out of control. I understand, building paper haunted houses is really fun and the movie Teen Witch could convince the president to do his inaugural speech in the nude. I mean, let's face it, Teen Witch is the greatest movie of all time. No other movie even gives a _____ about trying to top that. But I digress, Candy n' Wine. The fact of he matter is, the way you dove into my mouth with reckless abandon last night was unacceptable. I will hit the gym and we will forget this little incident, but in the future I hope you can keep your behavior in check.

Sincerely,

Becky

For the Trees!

A blog! Hooray! Now, I know what you are thinking: blogs are written by the nerds who grew up writing in journals; daydreamers who doodled on the front of all their school supplies. Worse, now, for some reason, the internet has disillusioned the poor journaler into believing someone else wants to read what they have to say. Well, with any luck, this blog will prove no different.

That's the lovely thing about life, any given moment could prove something quite notable and worthy of the intellectual elite that the internet consistently draws. And if not, well, I'll be saving trees by cutting down on the number of spiral bound notebooks I use.

Journaling addiction or not, we are in this, readers. You and I against the world, through the good times and the bad. Through the pithy social commentary, and the complaints about living in the valley. Here we go!

I am a post

I am a post. Read me and Weep.