new news

Had my Tommy's burger fix yesterday at the original in LA, so I'm good for like another year when it comes to burgers. Yum.

I'm starting up another blog and will begin posting there soon since my posts here are sort of starting to be less Paris themed. The most mention you get from Paris are people's reactions to my coming back and all that. Will still try to post about my Spain and south of France adventures, but stuff keeps piling up for me to do so we'll see what happens.

I'll post the link to the new blog up here once it's ready. What's exciting about this, for me at least, is that this'll be the first time that I'll be connecting two personal blogs together. What I usually do is that I start one and end it and start new again. My old readers are usually referred to the new blog, but never new readers to the old ones. So there could still be people reading this from three blogs back. I've been writing online since middle school. So this is history!

Ever since my last One to One at Apple, I've been kind of hesitant to going back there despite the cute boys. I had to cancel mine today to take Grandma to the doctor's which I'm glad for because I was so sure I'd get the same, serious guy who was interested looking at my photos on iPhoto. Creepy, right? I forgot to mention that. Luckily, I had my production photos from a film I worked on on the laptoppy, so I showed him that.

School is around the corner, so I must bring out my inner geek and go shopping. I need a new external hard drive to store all my Paris photos and such. Also need Final Draft for the laptoppy which I will now refer to as the Big Mac unless I find a cooler name. Hopefully someone at school can beer me a copy along with Final Cut--I'm horrible I know, but I'm a poor film student. My film TAs even support the sharing of expensive softwares. I will pay for software once I get a steady job, I promise.

People have been buggin' me (most notably old classmates who know I'm majoring in film) about The Dark Knight which I will see but I wanted it to be in a setting where I won't be bothered. So will see it Imax-style this week hopefully.

You might have noticed in my Dopplr that I'm planning a trip to Las Vegas in a few weeks. Will try my hand at the slots again to see if I'm still lucky. And maybe some outlet shopping for school clothes, yay! I also love love love people watching in Vegas. It's probably one of my more favorite places to people watch.

more nights on bikes

It's almost 3 am. Just got back from night biking in PJs with the Midnight Ridazz of West Hollywood (or Weho) and then tacos at King Taco on Olympic and Downey. Fun then yum.

I'm sore and my knees are shredded from running red lights, constant braking from near misses, and, oh yeah, biking for 10+ miles. Yet I feel awesome. There were dozens of us taking the lanes, yelling and ringing our bells for passersby, drivers, and clubbers. We owned the road. People would yell at us, "What's going on?!" or "Yeah! Bike for a cause!" or, my personal favorite from a homeless man hanging with a Jack Sparrow impersonator near Hollywood and Vine: "BIKER GANG! BIKER GANG!"

I wore my PJs. Lots of cute boys wore their boxer shorts or even briefs. How daring. One cute boy lost a nut in his brake when we stopped to see if he was okay, and he asked me for one. Lovely. Unfortunately, I had no nuts.

An awesome group of people, I would do this again. I am tired though, must sleeps now.

mo' money, mo' problems

I feel like I've used this post title before, but I don't care.

Finally tried to call my bank in Paris to finalize this money bullcrap, but no dice. Phone card wouldn't work. Didn't want to talk to the lady who was such a b-word to me. Kuya came in after playing pool, and I asked him to call for me and he exclaimed, "I don't speak French!" Fine, fine.

Tomorrow might go biking at night in Hollywood with this group that does themed biking. Tomorrow's theme is "Pajamas" I think. I might do a whole Darjeeling thing and wear my Brooks Brothers pajama pants and a gray tank top or the top and shorts. I also have those sleeping masks that I'll wear around my hair like a hairband. Beige loafers will complete the ensemble. My blue Schwinn named Blue is ready to go. Kuya joked that maybe the Erics from Apple will be there. I nicknamed them Eric Oneapple and Eric Twoapple, Eric Twoapple being my favorite.

Pre-production is underway for the wedding film. This is probably my favorite part. All the planning and scheduling. I hope that I can get a hold of Final Cut Pro from someone at school so that I can skip the whole iMovie thing. Don't get me wrong, I love the simpliciy of iMovie, but why use that when I know and need to learn more about Final Cut. We'll see.

Thinking about the future again. Blurg. More and more people are telling me to cherish school and all that. Kuya offered to let me stay at his awesome condo in Northridge, close to all those movie studios after I graduate. He will rent me the master bedroom in the 4 bedroom mini-house for $800. That house is beautiful and a dream. There's a pool down the street, it's a bike ride away from the stores, and great surround sound system. Everything is contingent on me finding a job though in LA.

I kind of want to sell a lot of my stuff or just get rid of all this clutter in my room. Sometimes I see the stuff that I bought a while ago and go, "What was I thinking?" I no longer feel the need to buy, buy, buy. It all just complicates my life. I also come across stuff that I've saved and go, "Why did I keep this? Why was this important to me?" as I toss it in the trash. I think the best way to keep my memories is to just have a few of them, the few that will mean something to me later.

Wait, I kind of have an idea...

Are you interested in my memories? In my little keepsakes that I saved all throughout my year in Paris? I've gathered too much as you've noted. As a thank you for being my blog supporter throughout my year in Paris, I'd like to send you something. It might be a postcard I picked out, a museum stub, maybe a map of Paris I used to carry around. I've got brand tags from clothing I bought, metro stubs, receipts. I will mail you two or three things that I've chosen along with a written description of how I've come across them or a story about them.

If you're interested, email me your address (I will be extremely confidential, no worries) at thiscozyskull (at) gmail dot com. And if you don't like what I sent you, then at least you'd have a nice handwritten letter in fountain pen by me!

pink's and beans

Went to the bank this morning where Mom made me co-owner for her safety deposit box. It feels so cool and old-timey to have a safety deposit box. She gave me a jade bracelet from her trip to China since I accidentally dropped mine on my Parisian studio brick floor.

Hung out with more of the fam-bam. Cousin Eric and his fam came from Texas and we all went to window-shop on Melrose Ave. Traffic was hellish. Didn't find anything that cool except for some flats that were $225, handmade and awesome with a freaking quote etched into the sole of the shoe. My kind of shoe. Took down the name of the designer just in case I win the lotto or something.

Had late lunch at Pink's--yeah, I know, very touristy, but they came all the way from Texas! Why not?! I remember my film friend, Phill who works up the street at Mole-Richardson, a lighting company, and how he stood in line next to Cuba Gooding Jr. No celebs by us though. I kind of don't care for LA sometimes. Like today, there were a lot of phony people out and people that you could tell just cared about their looks and the looks of the people they were with. Just hipster phonies. But I better get used to them sooner or later.

Late dinner back at the house. Steak, green beans from the house farm (SO YUM!), rice, fruit salad. Tasty as always. Had to drive back to LA around 11pm--that's my favorite time to drive around. No traffic, usually. It was such a lovely drive. All the lights aglow in the misty haze of smog. It's times like these that I love LA, when I'm cut off behind glass staring at it all as if it was in a snow globe.

Got mixed notes from the fam and cousins. Cousin Eric said I was "bolder". I guess because when they make fun and joke at my expense, I used to take it and not say anything back, and now I do say stuff back, so now I'm "bolder". But then Dad said today that I was "too shy" and need to "show off" more. Very interesting...

2 am again

2 am in sleeping so cal, but the laptoppy clock computer says otherwise: 11:15am.

Woke up around 1am and it was a bit trippy getting out of my bed now that the carpet in my room is gone and it's all hardwood. It's also kind of weird coming back to my room in my parents' house. First thing I thought was, "Oh my God, I have to get rid of a lot of crap." So lots of cleaning and organizing to look forward to.

Kuya picked us up from the airport. First me then my parents. Took us out to dinner at Lawry's which was DELICIOUS. Had the California cut, why not I'm back. Also was starving since I didn't eat on my 15 hours flight. Rather what I did eat did not stay long in my system (I puked twice, yuck). Our server was a British lady named Mrs. Fetherston (pronoucned "feather-stone"), what a lovely lady she was too. When I heard her name I could only think of Mrs. Featherbottom on Arrested Development.

More details to come on my trip back at a decent hour when I don't feel like a zombie.

lunch at d'orsay and another adventure

Today, took my parents to my favorite Musée D'Orsay. First they came to my place to use the interwebs and read up on the Lakers. Both Mom and Dad are die-hard Lakers fans. "I've got all the games programmed to record on DVR while we're gone," Dad said.

When we got there, we started at the top, at Impressionism. It was crowded, but still nice to see these paintings before I leave. Dad talked about Burt Lancaster in The Train and how his character is supposed to stop a train from transporting French art into Nazi Germany. I love how stuff reminds Dad of movies. I've never seen this film, but I'm making a list of films to watch with Dad when I get home. Yummy, long French lunch there too. My first time. Mom and Dad did a tour last night and their tour guide said that the restaurant on the second floor was good and not too crowded. The ambience was amazing, like dining inside a palace. The service was excellent as well. Showed off my French skills once again for my parents as I ordered for them, and the waiter didn't change into English, and he said, "Très bien, Mademoiselle." And that made me feel very, very good, and it made me look very, very good in front of my parents. The first time I ordered sandwiches for them on the street at Notre Dame, Dad said very loudly and proudly, "THAT'S MY GIRL!" And then I shushed him and smiled. Mom was impressed with the food, but Dad was nonchalant. Dad is simple though: a $2.50 burrito at a hole in the wall that only has 3 tables in LA appeals more to my Dad's palette than filet de poisson et ratatouille. Yay I finally had ratatouille! He said it "wasn't bad" and then qualified it by saying, "You know, the English never say something is 'very good'. They say it's 'not bad'." Okay, Dad.I don't know when it started, probably when I left for college, but Mom and I can have these grown-up conversations and it feel likes an out of body experience of sorts for me because in a lot of ways I feel like a kid, very young at heart, but in these convos, I feel so grown up. During dessert (profiteroles à la D'Orsay!) Mom complained about a few things going on at home while Dad enjoyed his coffee and would butt in occasionally to say something smart-alecky.Mom then told me a very good story (both of my parents are very good storytellers) about something that happened while they were in line to get into the museum, and I was already inside getting their tickets (with my museum carte I can skip the lines). Anyway, Mom told me that a lady who had gotten ice cream was ducking underneath the line dividers to get to her group who was ahead of them. As she got up, both flavors of her ice cream smeared onto another lady's jacket ("Vanilla and a sorbet", Mom said) and then, "SHE DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING!!" Mom laughed. "I almost tapped her," Mom said, referring to smeared jacket lady. "Can you imagine? That lady taking off her jacket and seeing the stain? 'What is this?'!" And then Mom does this thing where she makes a funny face; smiles and laughs; and then claps once right in front of her. A lot of her funny stories end like that. Oh Mom. I can't stop smiling as I write this.

After lunch, more art. I mostly people watched. Lots of Americans. I've never really noticed how big and lazy we are. Seriously. I'm no model, but at least I don't complain walking up three flights of stairs. I guess I'm used to it, but even back in SF, I'd walk 5 flights up the Humanities building to get to class. I watched a group of young girls today staring at the flight of stairs to get to the second floor, and they looked around and said, "Where's the elevator?" The elevator was behind me, but I didn't say anything. Their teacher had to make them walk it. And these were healthy looking girls. I was really perturbed.

Bought myself a museum guide book to take home and then we headed back to my place. I started to pack a little for Spain and home while my parents rested. Lucia gave me her sleeping bag to take back since she didn't have space and I said I could take it back. Only it was way bigger than I imagined. I unrolled it, thinking I can make it smaller, but with no success. Even Mom said, "Don't do it, Elaine. You won't make it better." She was right; it was laughably bigger.

Dad woke from his nap and noticed it and was like, "AAAHH!! WHAT DID YOU DO?!" And he was laughing so hard how I made the sleeping bag bigger than it originally was. He then set out to fix it. We have it so good--Dad can fix almost anything. Our cars, the air conditioner...hell, he is currently installing the wood floors at our house by himself ("I finished your room," he said a couple days ago). So he fixed it.I've packed 2 bags, ready for the Americas, and one backpack for Spain, and my studio still looks the same. It's going to be hectic for the next couple of weeks, I'll definitely update when I get the chance.

reflection time

Mom and Dad went to the Louvre leaving me to do what I gotta do. Packed up one suitcase that they brought with them and will check-in for me. It was weird, my entire school year--all the papers I received, my notebooks, my tests--they all fit in there along with some other books, souvenirs, and winter stuffs. Started packing for Spain too.

Packing, leaving, turning 22 in a week...this is all too much, it kind of all makes me want to throw up. Is this normal?

Walked around the neighborhood to clear my head/get money at the ATM. Mostly everything was closed, boarded up. It's Monday. The cute patisserie that my landlord took me to when I moved in is now a smoothie place. The flower store with the old guy and round glasses retired, there's a pizza place there now. And the grec sandwich place where they had student discount is now a Subway. So much has changed in a year, but a lot of it is the same. I think I'm kind of the same way.

A big shout out to Elaine from Elaine Travels. Elaine contacted me and we have a lot in common other than our prenoms. Check out her blog, it features a lot of cool restaurants that I can't wait to try out when I'm back in LA.

why I love where I live

There's a small leak above my kitchen sink, and for some reason I thought my landlord Mr. Bassoul would be mad (there's been a lot of bad landlord things going on among Micefa students) even though it wasn't my fault. I've been really lucky. He came over and made an appointment with a plumber for tomorrow, and he wasn't mad just sorry about the inconvenience. I've been catching the water and using it to water plants and do dishes since it's clean, and he's really happy about that. "I like the way you think!" he said. He really cares about recycling and stuff.

He also gave me the address to his website! If you didn't know already, every Sunday morning from 11H to 14H I can hear him play his accordion and sing songs. He plays right in front of my church and people come to sing along and dance. Check out his website.

Other reasons to love where I live...So my opera singing French neighbor--I kid you not, I hear him practicing during the day with piano accompaniment--was probably super drunk last night since he was singing from his window to the people down below. Don't know if you can see him in the photo in the bottom right.It was beautiful. I think the way our buildings are placed allow for great acoustics. Some woman praised his singing from the street, and he proceeded to drague ("hit on") her from 3 stories above! Oh these French men! They exchanged digits for all to hear. He kept singing all night then ending it with, "Jean-Louis! Celibataire!" ("Single!")

Today was an especially lovely Sunday morning. Sun was out, Mr. Bassoul was playing his accordion, and the marketplace was bright with fresh fruits and vegetables. Called Lucia to see if she was up for free museum Sunday (my last one!). She ended up being at Keisha's, only a couple blocks away. She moved out of her studio and away from her horrible, evil landlady. We met and did some grocery shopping together. I love grocery shopping on Sundays. It's the best here. Got some pitas, hummus, and beer at the Franprix, cantaloupe and watermelon from the vendors. Went back to my place and I made lunch. So tasty. Stuffed pitas filled with hummus, tziki (sp?), salad, carrots, and tomatoes with a side of potatoes and grilled aubergine. Yum! Add that and a bottle of Kronenburg. Then we had the melons that we cut up beforehand for fruit salad and put in the fridge to cool. I put the table closer to the window so we could hear the music. I really like this set-up. Might keep it like this for the rest of my time here. For free museum day we went to the Musée National du Moyen-Age Thermes de Cluny which Lucia and I both wanted to see before leaving. Moyen Age means Middle Ages. I was really excited to see the Lady and the Unicorn tapestries.

Lucia's leaving in less than two weeks. It's already June. I can't believe how fast this all went by. And I'm going to turn 22 on the 23rd. Weird. I feel grown up, but in a lot of ways, I feel like a child.

LISTMANIA
Books I want to read when I get back home:

• The Odyssey by Homer and my old copy of Greek myths: Being in Sicily reminded me to brush up on the classics. Whenever at a famous site I was asked if I knew the stories but I said that I read them a while back and couldn't remember them well.
• Books on Arthurian legends, Aesop's Complete Fables, and the Brothers Grimm Tales: I need to reconnect with my childhood. They're also just good to read.
• On Writing by Stephen King: Because I heard it was deece, and "LOST" referenced it (white bunnies with numbers on their backs).

Places to eat at in LA and SF:

• Home. Dad's steak, Mom's pansit and stir-fry vegetables in oyster sauce, WHITE RICE! from a rice cooker...All this eating and sitting outside in the backyard with the smell of barbeque in the air.
• Tommy Burger's on Rampart and W. Beverly Blvd. (I'm getting a cheeseburger, chili cheese fries, and a root beer.)
• In N Out by my house. (Cheeseburger, animal-style fries, and a strawberry lemonade.)
• Lucille's in Brea. Full rack baby back ribs, fries, and coleslaw. I'm salivating already.
  
• That really good ice cream shake place in Eagle Rock that I went to with my brother before leaving but was closed. Why do you close at 10pm on a Friday?!
• Taco Nazo for fish tacos.
• That burrito place that Dad took me to in LA for a wet burrito and tortilla chips.
• Pho Huynh Hiep 3 at Westlake Village in Daly City
• Mitchell's for ice cream in SF
• bubble milk tea at Lollicup
  

a cute boy asked for my number!

Okay, okay, it's not what you think. And it's not that exciting. I was on my way to class, and in the doorway are these people who want you to vote for the school's blah blah or attend this manifestation or whatever. I usually take the fliers to appease these people then recycle them when they're not looking. Technically, I'm not a student at their University, I'm just taking classes there. And I'm not "supposed" to attend manifestations--I could get arrested and deported.

So, I got beamed into the Death Star that is this cute, bespectacled blond boy who was passing out fliers. I held out my hand to just grab one, but he kept talking on and on about a conference being held, so I systematically said I'd go, then he got his freaking pen out and asked my name.

Oh blurg.

So I gave him my "French" sounding name: Hélène. He correctly guessed if I was from America, and I replied yes from California. From San Francisco? I said yes to that to. The dude's pretty good at pin pointing even though I'm really from LA, I go to school in SF. Then he freaking asked for my number, and like I was still in auto-pilot, I freaking gave it to him. Stupid, stupid. I should have given him the number for Pizza Hut, if I only knew it. He might have known it though. Can you imagine, some guy asking for your number and you gave him the Pizza Hut number? That's Pizza Hut, he'd say. What would you say? I'd say, "Oh, that's my work number, sorry. My cell is (insert other fake number)."

Anyway, he said he'll call me on Friday night to remind me of the manifestation on Saturday since that was the one I said I'd go to. But I'm not going. And I'm not answering any "inconnus" (unknown) numbers on Friday night.

I recycled the fliers, don't you worry.

packing process

Packing process has begun. Just mailed the first of many envelopes addressed to myself. They are to arrive at my parents' house in LA. These envelopes contain business cards, museum stubs, pamphlets, receipts--stuff I kept over the year and would like to use for a scrapbook of some sort later. I love keeping this stuff. I love my memories. The good and the bad. And I don't want to be bogged down by all of it when I leave.

How wonderful it would be if when I came home, I had all these envelopes, these tiny packages sent from France holding all my memories. I'd open one envelope each day and just go over each item and try to remember all I could about it. God, that's going to be amazing. I wonder what piece will make me laugh or make me cry or make me wish I was back in Paris.

I wish you could see my planner. An absolute bordel. Wait here's a pic:I love how chaotic it looks. Makes it look like I'm busy. That I'm actually doing something, thank God. Some stuff I didn't even get to do like see The Searchers on Wednesday. Or see the Buster Keaton shorts with live piano this Sunday. I'm kind of sad that I'm missing that, but Amsterdam is a good reason to miss it. Also, found that they're showing To Kill A Mockingbird at Amsterdam's Filmmuseum, so that'll be cool! The museum is down the street from our hotel. I'd like to do one "film" thing in every city I visit, if it's possible. BFI in London, and now the Netherlands's largest film museum and archive.

I finished packing last night. For the first time since I got here I'll be using my backpack, the big one. I used a regular school backpack for London which ended up being almost unbearable to pack since I got so many books at the BFI. I'm excited to use it for the first time. Also it only looks big because my wool jacket is in there, and it's thick. I found out the hard way that traveling makes me sweat like a mother. I love learning what works and what doesn't. So no heavy, hampering clothing while traveling but keep it close (I packed it at the top) just in case weather gets nasty.

As always, I will hash out (get it? 'cuz I'm going to Amsterdam?) a day by day record of what went on in Amsterdam. Every. Dirty. Detail. Maybe not every dirty detail, but close. In the meantime, check out the photo albums, I put some up from Zizi and D'Orsay. I hope everyone has a safe and happy weekend.

Much love and bisous from your American girl abroad,
Elaine

LA story

A beautiful day. There's an outdoor artisanal festival outside my door lining two streets that lead up to my street. They're playing music. They really like Supertramp here. Supertramp's "Goodbye Stranger". Probably made famous by the film Magnolia. I know this, because I have the soundtrack. I prefer "Logical Song", especially for karaoke. They've played Supertramp every day of the festival. It's kind of funny.

I love this video because it's quintessentially LA, and LA is home. And these guys just have a really funny presence the same way you can look at David Cross in "Arrested Development" and crack a smile. How can you look at him and not smile? Whenever people ask me where I'm from, I say LA because it's easier than my own humble city that's located smack between LA and Orange County. Technically, I am in LA county. I never say OC. God...the OC. Blurg. Nothing's wrong with it, it's just the connotations and that stupid tv show.

Anyway, after watching this video, it really made me miss LA. I just feel really lucky and blessed to have grown up there. If I lived in any other city in the world, I wouldn't be who I am today. Dad used to work for the city of LA, fixing air conditioners in city owned buildings like libraries, firehouses, and police stations. He'd tell great stories about the people he met, he'd take us to all these great hole in the wall restaurants. He'd drive us around, and I'd sit in the back starry-eyed at this city 30 minutes away from my own, hoping, someday, to live in a quaint dump that was close enough to a crappy (but a good beginning) job so that I can bike it. He'd know shortcuts, the best public building to take a crap, the best burritos, and the best fried chicken. Yum.

And it's the metropolis of filmmaking. People come here to make it big or serve dinner to people who made it big. I, myself, have several brushes with celebrity which I will brag about right now:

1. Sean Astin: Right after the first LOTR came out. Was on my flight from Portland to LAX. I yelled, "GOONIES!" at him from across the terminal, and he kindly waved. He also helped my friend with her suitcase at baggage claim.

2. Jamie Lee Curtis: At California Adventure. I ran past her, turned around, and walked by her and said, "Hello" as my friends watched in complete astonishment. She said "hi" back.

3. Mike White: You probably don't know him, but he was Jack Black's roommate in School of Rock. He also wrote the film and is an accomplished screenwriter. He was on my flight from LAX to Heathrow. Sidled up behind him like a ninja when boarding the plane and told him how I thought the film was pretty funny. He seemed kind of nervous.

4. John Gulager: Director of Feast at CineGear 2007, which I'll be missing this year!! Boo.

5. Laszlo Kovacs: Cinematographer for Ghostbusters, Easy Rider, along with a slew of other films. Also at CineGear 2007. He signed my book that I got on his work. This meeting was really special since we talked a little about film school and his love for San Francisco to which I told him he should go back to my school and have a workshop. He past away a month later.

4. Various Production Crew: On my numerous flights from SF to LA, I've met a computer designer that makes creatures for films and video games. I've also met some guys that just worked on the last Star Wars at Lucas's ranch and were returning back to LA for a premiere. These people are just as important as screenwriters, directors, and actors, and they're celebrities to me too. Wow, I've been pretty lucky at airports...

So yeah, pretty cool. People always talk about the "move to LA", what a big change it'll be and so forth. But I think I've been spared the orientation since LA is home.

it's not all fun and games

It's hard to ignore the fact that bad things can happen. Not all trips are safe, end happily. There are bad people around who will hurt you for your money or other things. My uncle's friend who visited Spain was put into a chokehold until she was unconscious while they took her purse and money belt. She was walking down a strange dark alley at night. Anything can happen, but it's up to me to be on my guard and not do anything stupid.

Today, Dad was giving me his talk about protecting myself. I'm pretty cautious, and it takes me a while to trust people, but I've got to be on my guard abroad all the time. It's like a switch that must be on 24/7. It's fun when I turn it into a mind game, the kind of thing assassins or spies would train for. Looking for exits, checking if you're being followed. I've carried a knife with me ever since my Dad gave it to me when I turned 17. Having an older brother who could surprise tickle me or put me in a fake chokehold has quickened my reflexes. I could scream loudly if I really wanted to, and my karate teacher once told me that he liked the way I delivered a kick. I have all these things, but still. Dad says, "If anything happens...go for the kill." A scary quote, but I will do what I have to do to save my life or the lives of others.

I'm not going to lie and tell you that I love being a woman all the time. Sometimes I really don't. Guys have it easier. I hate being the prey. I hate the automatic assumptions. From what I learned about working on film shoots (where the majority of people on the crew are males), I'm my role first (whether it be assistant camera or director), and I'm a girl second. My sex has nothing to do with my job. My ability, my knowledge is sexless. I have a slogan at Gungirl Productions--my production company with my friend--and that's "Don't let your boobs get in the way of your filmmaking". Once you bring your gender into it, you lose everything. Let's stop arguing and make this film. Okay, enough about gender roles. I ramble.

All I'm saying is that everyone who travels has to be careful and not stupid and always aware. Girls, carry pepper spray, get your own drinks, and stay with friends. Guys, don't be stupid assholes and drink too much.

lists are good

Things that are funny to me:

--Mom at Costco throwing a brick of cheddar cheese into the shopping cart
--Dad arguing about how we don't need so much cheese and who's going to eat it
--Me screaming when Kuya almost hit a pigeon with my car
--The line for food at Costco
--That ridiculous kiss in Spider-Man when MJ is kissing the upside-down Peter Parker

I am unbearably happy. I have reasons to be unbearably happy:

--I can't stop thinking about funny people and things I love and will miss.
--Because a lovely boy took a bus from SF to see me before I go.
--Because I'm leaving in a couple of days.

I can't sleep, and I wake up early. This excitement is killer! Also, I've been waking up wanting to vomit. Is it excitement or nervousness? Both?! In high school, I always vomited right before an essay test in my AP English class because I was nervous. We knew what we had to study, but he never gave us a prompt. It was also excitement too, all that literature running through my head. All I could think was, "What's my teacher going to ask of me? What can I tell him that's never been told before? What will I do to stand out of all these other essays? How can I make my essay amazing?" I guess this is the same thing. What's going to be asked of me? How can I make this trip amazing?

J.D salinger wrote that writers only get asked two questions when they die: "Were your stars out? Were you busy writing your heart out?" That's the only kind of writing (and living) I want to do.

nothing important happened today

It's been hectic the last couple of days, but I've been getting a lot done. It's really hot here though, which is nice compared to the cold, foggy SF summer. I've been working on my tan.

Some friends from SF came down, and we met at Universal Studios. They ended up leaving late, and I was early, so I had an hour to myself to enjoy some coffee and do some people watching on the Citywalk. When we did get in we got drenched on Jurassic Park and dried off in the Backdraft attraction. All in all a good time.

Hung out with Kuya in his lovely home in the valley (San Fernando Valley). It was super hot there, so we just watched his Tivo-ed episodes of Entourage and Go, which isn't too bad of a movie. And Timothy Olyphant is pretty hot.

Did some errands for Grandma. Saw my optometrist. Bought my International Student Identity Card, which will be good for discounts here and abroad. Right now, I'm organizing my address book and gathering addresses so that I can send people postcards from abroad. It's such a bugger filling out my address book.

summer reflection

This is a lengthy post. Written somewhere's between 1:30 am and now. Beware. It's also a bit telling, and I was wary about posting it, but it did make a serious impact on my summer and me as a person, so read on and enjoy, dear friends.

Wow. What a summer. The posts on this blog don't even sum up or totally describe what this summer has meant to me. Or me to this summer. If that's possible, and I think it is.

Firstly, I turned 21, which is the all-American turning point. I can drink. I can gamble. Wow, all vices. Anyway, it was a turning point, and I didn't think it would be. I did sort of save myself, and I rarely drank before 21. There was just one occasion since C. turned 21 months before I did, and I wanted to drink then, but that was probably it.

But the major thing, the HUGE thing, and it will seem so little and so trivial to you, but let me let you in on it first and then explain. Here it is, the major act that I did that is totally not part of my normal behavior is...I told a boy I liked him. That I had a crush on him for the past year.

Okay, okay, okay. Small, I know, just that first part. And in this day, and at my age, I even agree. 12 year olds tell other 12 year olds they like each other. The "past year" part though adds a punch, I think. And the fact that I'm 21, and that this is the first time ever I told a boy I liked him.

The thing is...I am old-fashioned. My aunt once referred to me as the "nun". I like letting fate, or destiny, intervene i.e. do the work. I believed, in my heart of hearts, that if something was meant to happen, it would happen, and it would not be because I made a daring choice or set myself up for hurt or took a chance. No, I didn't like taking chances. I didn't like getting hurt. I didn't like trying things knowing that one of the two outcomes would be me not getting where I wanted to be. And that meant missing out on a lot of things. Remember, this is the girl who wouldn't go outside through a crowd of people to get a plate of meatballs (see post titled "the meatball story") unless there was some sort of prize in the end. This is that girl.

You have no idea how crippling this kind of mentality is. This has been my past adolescence. And a good part of my college years. Because it's so easy, and nice, and comfortable to be shy and not say what I really feel and then just go blog or write about it somewhere and let that be my outlet. It was so easy. But this isn't a way to live.

I have books of my reported shyness. I have a blog somewhere on the internet (that you will never find, hopefully) about my first 2 years of college in which my pen name was Prufrock*(see footnotes). I had loyal readers who begged me, urged me, to change. I didn't. I mean, I thought I did, but I really didn't. The blog got a bit depressing, and I moved on.

So you see, it's not small. It's not miniscule, telling a boy I liked him. Not to me. A regular "normal" girl might have done it at least once before hitting 21. I am clearly not normal, and this was clearly a turning point. Even more so than my 21st birthday**. And it really changed everything. This crush became more of burden with each month that went by that I didn't tell him. And it would go away and then come back, and ugh, what a mess. But finally letting him know...that felt so good. I had reasoned in my head that it wouldn't even matter what he felt about me, whether he'd like me back or not. It would just be better to tell him, to rid myself of this shyness in one simple act. I, as I like to call it, "set myself up for hurt" (because not being shy always ends negatively to me, hence the "hurt") but at least it would be done. And even if it did hurt, it would be temporary. I seriously figured he didn't feel the same way about me, but at least I said it, got it out before I left for Paris, and maybe I can start new.

I did it though. Finally, finally. And you know the nice thing about taking a chance is, about telling someone you like him? I found out that he likes me too.

What have I been missing all these years? Argh. What a Prufrock I am.

FOOTNOTES
* T.S. Eliot's patron saint of shyness and not taking chances. Read his "Love Song for J. Alfred Prufrock"
**Actually turning 21 did help and give it some edge as I did tell said boy how I felt about him the day after I turned 21.

je ne dors pas

I can't sleep. It's 1:13 in the morning, and I just had a lovely day at Universal Studios with friends, and I can't sleep. How unlikely is that? It makes sense though. I'm less than two weeks away.

I just can't stop thinking about how horribly bad my French is, how crazy it's going to be when I get there, and all the people I'm leaving behind. It's insane to grasp. I once equated leaving with dying. I mean, I'm saying goodbye to all these people I care about, I'm doing things I'm going to miss, and I'm going somewhere very far away...At least I can be visited. At least it's not actually death. God, I'm rambling, please forgive me, but it is 1 am.

lovely news!

My brother proposed to his girlfriend this past Sunday! Yes, I should have written about it in my last post, but I wasn't sure if they wanted to keep under wraps. He started by going to her parents' house and asking them for their permission--so sweet! Kuya is old school. And the Mom replied with, "YES! YES! YES!" And the father was just stunned. Kuya asked, looking towards the father, "Mr. A?" And the mother just answered for him, "YES! YES! YES!" Haha.

Then he went to her work (she's a pharmacist just like Kuya), and she got angry at him because she wanted them to meet at a party that they were going to. And he propsed to her in a parking garage at her work. Not exactly the most romantic of places, but totally cute nonetheless. She had no idea. And days before, he'd ask her douchebag questions like, "How long does it take to get a ring? Two months?" And she wouldn't answer him at all. She'd just stare at him in angry silence. Haha.

The ring is absolutely GORGEOUS!!! I don't usually like jewelry, but this one is lovely. The diamond is an heirloom, given to Kuya by my grandmother. Kuya got it set in a vintage style ring. I lurve vintage. It looks like the ring has history, and it doesn't look like any other ring I have ever seen. God lovely.

Kuya had planned on proposing before I left, and the wedding is set for next fall, when I'm back. I'm glad he did propose, because now I've been spending time with Kuya and his fiancee, Kat, as they look at places to have the reception. Neato! I'm also a bridesmaid!!! I've never been a bridesmaid before. Fun fun fun.

To read Kat's post on her engagement, check it here!: http://karrogan.blogspot.com/

it's getting close!

Wow, I'm less than three weeks away, and I'm not really sweating it. Seriously. There are times when I feel a bit scared for the future, and then the feeling evaporates and leaves behind all this excitement: I'm going to live in Paris! I'm going to improve my French! I'm going to meet loads of people from all over! These thoughts take over, and then I am okay. It's going to be okay.

I received my international driver's license at AAA for $15. I bought a raincoat when I went shopping with my friend Cher (aka Cherilin). I've set my winter clothes aside so that Mom can ship it to me. Everything is slowly coming to a close, winding down, leaving me to enjoy time with my family and friends.

Went to Coronado Beach down in San Diego for my cousin's daughter's birthday this past weekend, and it was absolutely gorgeous outside. And I walked along the beach with my cousin and brother's girlfriend, and we talked about boys and traveling, and it was lovely. Went to a casino with my Grandma, brother, and brother's girlfriend, and we had a grand old time too. It so weird knowing that I won't see them for close to a year. What can I do to somehow make up for all that lost time that I won't have with them? I can't. I have to make things count now.

Right now I'm cleaning my room, donating old clothes, and just throwing things away or recycling them. I'm listening to the Bottle Rocket soundtrack. It's very soothing and certain songs remind me of funny parts in the film. I can't go anywhere right now cuz I don't have a car, but that's okay.

visa

I just got my visa today at the French consulate in Los Angeles on Wilshire Blvd. My appointment was this morning, and Dad took me. We first got breakfast at this place he used to frequent when he was still working. It's called Grinder or The Grinder, and it's on Figueroa and 28th. I had an omelette, and it was tasty. Dad had pancakes.

We arrived pretty late, but it was okay. I walked to the visa section, which was behind this door that had a window, but it was covered up, and I don't know why, but I was scared. I really had no reason to be because behind it were all these chairs and some people, and even one of my classmates, Lucia! We saw each other, and I was all, "Hey!!!" And then I piped down because everyone looked at me, and even the visa ladies behind the glass heard me.

She was ahead of me in line. The girl, she was young and had an accent, called me up, and I gave her my passport and application. She asked me if I spoke French, and I said, "Un peu." Which means "a little". She was really happy though that I spoke French, I think, because after that she was really nice and sweet. I paid and waited for the other French lady to call me up.

When she did, she was really curt and asked for all my papers, and "where's this?" and "do you have that?". After she had everything, she finally took a good look at me, and I was just all smiles because I was so happy about how smoothly this was going. And she said in a light accent, "You stay away from French boys!"

And I laughed and said sure. It felt like a compliment. I told her that I won't even look at them. She added, "French boys are more aggressive than the American ones." And I said probably. She told me what to do when I get to France. She gave me back my passport and even Lucia's and bid me farewell, and I said merci.

Then Lucia said when I sat back down next to her, "She was so nice to you!" And I just shrugged. We exchanged numbers and might hang out together before we both leave for Paris.

Afterwards, Dad and I just drove around LA. It was nice. He wanted to drive by his work, and we did. Then we headed home.

So I'm done with the most important stuffs. I saw my doctor, and I'm healthy. I saw my dentist, and she said I'll get my wisdom teeth out when I get back next summer. Now I need to see my optometrist. Today, I'm going to go get my international driver's license. Yay!