Eric's 12/29 post

Eric writes:
Watching lots of news. Tsunami/Earthquake aftermath footage is terrifying. I’ve been feeling strange throughout the past few days, knowing how much of the world is suffering right now while I’m enjoying my lazy vacation here in Connecticut. Two places to donate: Redcross.org
idepfoundation

Family trip to Dominican Republic got canceled last minute. So I’m in my second week of lazy days at the family homestead in wintry Connecticut. Despite being Jewish (12 Tribes! Reprazent!), my dad’s family celebrates Christmas. So I got to see Dad’s side of the family. We exchanged presents (Cousin Johannes got me amazing sushi gear). Liked the Ted Leo “Shake the Sheets” album so much that I bought a copy for my cousin, ME-L. Hopefully it adds joy to his life. ‘Though not as much as if I’d been wise enough to buy him Ghostface’s Pretty Toney album… The gathering felt strange only ‘cause the only real news I had for family was that I’m unemployed.

Masa at the Time Warner Center got 4 stars in the New York Times today. I’m a sushi fiend, and hopefully I’ll hit it big with Alex and Kirschbaum in Vegas in ’05 so I can afford one day to be fed New York’s greatest fish and rice. Apparently, it’s $350 prix-fixe. Those unemployment checks can’t come fast enough…

Monday night, Cousin Johannes and I met up in the New York for dinner. Took dad’s splendid new whip into the city. (If anyone ever can afford an Audi S4, buy it. It’s one of the most enjoyable ways I’ve ever traveled from Point A to Point B. It’s got all-wheel drive, 340 horsepower, and a wonderful stereo). Everywhere we walked to was closed, so we ended up at Po on Cornelia Street. They gave me the wrong pasta and when I said it wasn’t what I ordered, the server said it was and left it there. Server told our waiter that I was okay with this. Waiter tried to remedy things but this didn’t stop everything from being kinda weird. The wine was good. The sformato - bland. The gnocchi with oxtail – nearly oxtailless. Maybe they were having an off-night. I dunno. In any case, Johannes moves with wife & kid to Rochester in March. Rochester? Home of the garbage plate? Yes, the very same.
Yes, I will visit as soon as possible. I mean, now I’ve got a reason to head to a Mecca for gluttons – Nick Tahou’s.

Been working on the script for the pilot. It’s slow going. I’m writing half and my writing partner is writing the other half. Then we’ll trade halves and work away…

Bought the Vashti Bunyan CD. http://www.anotherday.co.uk/ has info.
“Love Song” and “Winter is Blue” are the two songs I’ve been enjoying most.
Heard her mentioned in a Joanna Newsom article and thought I’d check her out.

Been listening to The Arcade Fire through the headphones a good deal.
The music from their tentacles has reached my eardrums and I now find myself infected…

More to come. - Eric

If this makes you jealous, then you're my kind of girl

In two hours, my family and I will be ushering out '04 at Per Se. Booyah.

Spielberg

I've been thinking a lot about Steven Spielberg today. In particular this brilliant review of Spielberg's most brilliant movie in fact the most brilliant American movie the past 25 years: http://www.sensesofcinema.com/contents/03/27/ai.html
(I don't know how to link shit yet...sorry)
Alex

Update on Jason

Spoke to a friend who got in touch with Jason: he's all right. I asked him if he mentioned where he's at but he (Jason) didn't say. What? It's a relief for sure but still...
All day I've been running around the city running errands. I had to put labels on some burned CDs this morning: you know that thing you use to hold the label in place so that when you stick the sticky side with not-burned side of the burned CD, shit doesn't get sticked all sloppy-like? Well that thing that does that is groovy.
While I've been hanging out at my brother's waiting for him to get back from work so we can visit our just turned 30 cousin whom I mentioned a week ago in the whole snipped thread fabric oozing of personal feeling post, I've been pouring over the Village Voice's Take 6 Film Critics Poll. It's sort of the most fun thing the Village Voice puts out all year.
Though I haven't seen The Aviator or House of Flying Daggers yet, here's a quickie Top 10. Completely sincere mind you so don't think I'm joking around. I don't joke about important things like Top 10 lists.
1. Eternal Sunshine/The Big Red One: The Reconstruction
2. Son Frere (USCers: if you haven't seen any Patrice Chereau, "do yourself a favor.")
3. Before Sunset
4. Primer
5. Dogville
6. Time of the Wolf
7. Collateral
8. Father & Son
9. Torque (NO JOKE)
10. Vera Drake/Million Dollar Baby/I Heart Huckabees/Sideways
If I had seen Crimson Gold this year instead of last at the NYFF, that would've been numero uno.
Films I wish I had caught up with: Moolaade, Goodbye Dragon Inn, Cowards Bend The Knee (though I'm not Guy Maddin fan), Los Angeles Plays Itself (hasn't screened in LA yet!), and Motorcycle Diaries though I've heard it's crap.
Enjoy the list and feel free to call me stupid. Eric, don't be a lazy bitch: post!
Love
Alex

Recap and Problem of Evil

Got back from a 5 day trip to Montreal and Mont Tremblant with the Chungs. Highlights and thoughts:
1. Ate some wicked food much of it courtesy of PGetto's "Culinary Map of Montreal." Rillettes du Canard, Foie Gras Poutine (what a weird food: french fries, gravy, and bland cheese bits), Duck Pate w/ Apricots, Foie Gras Au Torchon, Blood Sausage (mmm...really dark really good), Venison ribs, Lamb sweetbreads (twice), Schwartz's Smoked Meat sandwich, a raw milk cheese dessert, and best of all, pig's feet at Au Pied de Cochon. The NYTimes did a feature on Au Pied de Cochon this past summer (I think): its contribution to the offal craze. I've been eating a lot of offal the past couple of years b/c frankly, most other foods even uni sushi stopped being fun to eat. (I eat for fun and as a means to test my athleticism) So I figured I'd challenge myself and try to eat animal parts most people would gag at the sight of in the supermarket. That attitude has led me to the wonders that are testa (brined cow's head meat)and stewed tripe. Foie gras isn't quite offal but pig's feet and sweetbreads are and let me tell you, if you find either on the menu of any sort of respectable french-tinged eatery, do not pass the opportunity up! You will be duly rewarded with chewy morsels of savory flesh that probably at some point touched a lot of shit. My cholesterol probably went up 10-15% but there's nothing like sinking your teeth into a warm albeit leeky chunk of goose liver!
2. I think I'm an amazing skier.
3. French-Canadians are not as good looking as I thought they'd be despite the fact that they speak French which generally is a blush-inducing tongue.
4. I'd like to visit Montreal in the late spring: seems like it'd be more enjoyable for pedestrians when it's warm out. Not since the Himalayas have I been that cold.
The tsunami:
Not knowing if your close friend---someone you've known since the eight grade--is alive in Thailand is a terrible feeling. Last I heard, Jason was in Laos, but he might've gone back to Thailand for the Christmas holiday. Fuck. This raises once again the all important issue of the problem of evil. If there is a God and this God is loving and good, then why does He allow something like this to happen? It's pretty easy to reconcile the existence of God with the existence of human evil (if you don't believe me, check out Alvin Plantinga's seminal God, Freedom, and Evil), but not so much when it comes to natural disasters. I know that if I am to believe in God, then I should accept the fact that I can't know why God does/allows the things He does, but that doesn't sit right with me when it comes to shit like earthquakes and, I can't believe I'm saying this, tidal waves! What gives me some repose is that the God I believe in understands suffering in his deepest core and therefore can relate to what countless families are experiencing right now. And if I believe in a God that's suffered for our sake and suffers alongside us, then there must be some greater yet to be seen good that will come---that only can come---from this tragedy. I know this doesn't seem right, but that's the only way I can make sense of the idea of God. If God didn't suffer, then all this is brutal. If there's no God, then why do we feel like this ain't just a terrible event, but a grave human injustice?
So yeah, fun and terrible past few days.

Tomoe + Karaoke = Saturday

Reader, this is, as usual, an excessively long and boring post. Apologies. In 2005, I’ll try to learn to say things succinctly. And I'll use punctuation that makes my life seem more exciting. For instance, I'm about to make myself a sandwich! It's gonna taste awesome! Sincerely, The Love of Your Life, Eric!

It’s Monday, 12/20. I’m afflicted with some sort of flu that I got in NYC. No worries. I’m alive, at home in Connecticut with a bunch of dvd’s that I ordered for ten dollars each at the old jobbity-job. (To raise money for a good cause (sorry, I didn’t pay attention to the good cause) a bunch of entertainment companies donated tons of dvd’s to be sold for ten dollars each.) There were some good purchases (4 Criterion movies) but I went on a spree and bought a few movies I’ve never seen (Hellboy 3-Disc Set, Pink Panther 6 disc set, Man on Fire). Anyway, pass the remote, Fido the Faithful (dog’s name is actually Murphy) and let the entertainment begin.

Hit reverse. To get you caught up. Last week:
Thursday: I took the redeye flight last Wednesday. Again, Jet Blue made unawesome by being seated next to a guy who very well could possibly be the world’s tallest man. Robert Wadlow’s descendant quickly fell asleep and my head served as a pillow for his armpit. This guy was gigantic. His armpit was a warm cocoon for my head, and I put on the headphones and watched VH-1 Classic for the whole flight. Landed at JFK on Thursday 5:35am and realized that I hadn’t slept. As soon as I stepped outside into the New York Dawn, I realized that my acclimated-to-Los-Angeles body had no idea what cold really was. Took a bus home to Connecticut. There was dare-i-say a shitload of traffic so I didn’t get into Norwalk until 10am. My mom picked me up at the train station and took me home where I fell asleep for the entire day. I woke up for dinner, yet I have no idea what we ate. I went on a drive to the supermarket and bought sixty dollars worth of groceries that I thought would be fun to have at the house… (unfortunately, no jiffy pop)

Friday: It was a lazy day. I did something in Connecticut but can’t remember exactly. Took a train into the city and went to P-Getz’s office… P-Getz (former roommate/hetero-life partner (really, I lived with the guy for 3 years. He’s a great friend and it was wonderful to see him this weekend. I’d take a bullet for him (in the hand, not torso, but still, a bullet)) and I headed to the Belgian Beer Garden (can't recall the name) and started downing frites and glass upon glass of Lambic Framboise (a raspberry beer that is more like cherry 7-up than any beer. It’s like a pricey version of the red Smirnoff Ice, but better. Drink it, Alice.) Molly the Red (also known as Molly the Charming, Molly the Showtunes Goddess (more on that later) joined us. The French bartender who used to work there and at Murray’s cheeseshop back in early ’04 was nowhere to be seen. Man, I wish I had gotten up the nerve back in the day to talk to her, or at least buy her everything she wanted and propose marriage). After raspbeerathon ’04, Molly left (no worries: lots of good Molly stuff on Saturday). A note in advance: I ate like a king while in NYC. Gluttons everywhere would be proud. P-Getz and I then walked over to Cornelia Street and joined Martha (former roommate #2) for dinner at Pearl Oyster Bar. I gotta hand it to Rebecca Charles; She runs a tight ship and Pearl is still cranking out superb New England style seafood. We ordered: a bottle of wine (I was already drunk and don’t have any clue what it was), 3 lobster rolls, 18 oysters (6 fried, a dozen raw), 2 bowls of clam chowder, and a slice of apple crumble pie (which actually had berries in it as well, thanks Ms. Charles. Appreciated. Your not-so-secret-admirer, Eric). While the lobster rolls aren’t complicated, (Lobster Meat with Mayo on a toasted, buttered, Pepperidge Farm hotdog bun) at Pearl, every single time, it’s perfect. The lobster meat is perfectly tender, the shoestring fries are right out of the oil and salted nicely. It’s a great way to spend 20 dollars (just the lobster roll, the meal was a little higher than that). P-Getz and I jump in a cab with Martha and head to a party her friends are showing. P-Getz and I feel uncool surrounded by the hipsters and leave quickly. Apparently, we miss out on beautiful models.But not too bummed. I mean, I live in Los Angeles. I see human form reach perfection every time I go to the gym. P-Getz and I go to the Cowgirl Hall of Fame and drink strawberry margaritas out of glass jars. We wander home and I fall asleep on P-Getz’s floor.

Saturday: I wake up at 11. I watch tv. I take a shower. I get in line at Tomoe Sushi on Thompson street at 12:45. (They open at 1), and wait for P-Getz who’s getting a massage (really, a full spa treatment. Read: mani and pedi…) E-Nolte (my amazing co-worker from the paralegal days) joins us. I can’t recount everything we ordered, but I’ll say it was definitely too much. The toro was super-decadent.
3pm- P-Getz and I meet up with Molly at Murray’s cheeseshop (now next to Faicco’s on Bleecker) and order a wide variety of cheeses. The guy at the counter recommends 3 cheeses in a row that he thinks are better than what I asked for. He gives us samples and the cheeses all taste good, so we’re in. Then the P-Getz, E-Rock, M-Balfe gluttonous triumvirate walk over to winesby.com (the store not the website) and buy a couple of reds. Support this store. They’ve got great wines. Molly, P-Getz and I sit on the couch at my former home on Waverly Place, eat pears and cheese, drink wine, and watch “Fletch”. The apartment fills up with stinky cheese stench. Success. Molly heads out to get ready for the night’s activities… Which brings us to…
9pm- P-Getz, Martha and I head to Yeah Shanghai, next to the Chinatown Ice Cream Factory. N-Romaz, A-Wurthmazizzle, and M-Balfe all join in for a great dinner of dumplings and Chinese cerveza. Next destination: karaoke. A-Davie and B-Talbs show up as does poker host extraordinaire/karaoke supernova A-Scars. M-Balfe and A-Scars lead the karaoke-ers on a 4 hour mission. Fueled by liquor and lousy instrumental tracks, the mission was a complete success. I was a mess, referring to myself as “Rick Dickulous”. After singing most of "Jesus Christ Superstar", We, as a group, closed with “Sister Christian”. We gave ourselves a standing ovation and called it a night. Outside, there was a gang of unruly dudes, all drunk; dressed as Santa Claus. Nice to meet you guys...

Sunday: Martha and I have brunch at Deborah’s on Carmine Street. I order a Bloody Mary for the first time in awhile, and yes, I still think it’s a gross way to start the day. --- Dear Self, No more Bloody Marys. You hate tomato juice. Love, Yourself.--- We then walk to the Apple Store in SOHO where I wanted to incur some credit card debt. Unfortunately, the line was superlong so Martha and I bolted north. We caught “Lemony Snicket” and I laughed hard. The baby’s baby sounds are subtitled in a way that feels separate from the film, but still great. Really awesome production design and I feel like it would have been rewarding to cry at the end, but I didn’t want Martha thinking I went soft during my time spent thus far in L.A. After “The Incredibles” and “Lemony Snicket”, I’m sort of curious about this trend of having human characters die in family films, and whether there’ll be more of this as an attempt to be truthful to American kids in a post-9/11 world… I dunno… Anyway, “Lemony Snicket” is a lot of fun, and it’s got a nice dose of cynicism that kids can enjoy… The big climax at the end of the movie felt awkwardly paced but overall, a strong B+ recommendation for this film.
I leave Martha and head uptown to B-Talbz’s house where I’m going to crash that night. As I emerge from the subway at 110th Street, snow is falling.
B-Talbz, K-sis and I head to Mama Mexico for margaritas, guacamole and grub. The margarita hits me hard. B-Talbz and I stay up late and watch “Jackass:The Movie” and “Citizen Ruth”. I fall asleep on the Aerobed (which I still need to buy for Hotel Los Feliz so that I don’t have to crash in the bathtub everytime there’s a guest).

Monday: I’m starting to feel sick. Runny nose, sore throat, heavy head. 10am breakfast with P-Getz and Blueman. We go to Grey Dog Coffee on Cornelia. It’s 14 degrees outside. I go back to Casa de Talbz and fall asleep for a few hours. I’m not feeling so good, and now I’m afraid that she’ll get sick. I pack up all of my things and depart without so much as a goodbye to B-Talbz or a thank-you. Felt like a jerk but a jerk with a bad case of the flu. Mom picked me up at the train station. I went home and fell asleep.

Things are well... Will fill you in on the rest of this week as it comes... Just so this makes sense, I'm posting this on Thursday although it only fills you in on life up until Monday. Anyone have a fav. Christmas movie. I mean, "Dekalogue 3" by Kieslowski, although only an hour, is pretty awesome for film dorks. "A Christmas Story" is playing on tv in a 24 hour marathon this weekend. Can't wait, Eric

Montreal a demain

Shit dog I'm going to Montreal tomorrow!
Last night saw "Democracy" with my brother: I don't know what Ben Brantley was smoking the night he saw the show, but fucking jeepers what a disappointment! Sure, it was good but not the masterpiece Mr. Brantley made it out to be. Unlike Frayn's Copenhagen, Democracy had no emotional core to sustain the audience. In fact, it's the first time I've been to a play where the cast did not receive a standing O. I plan on seeing Reckless before I head "home" to LA: I think I love ML Parker.
Afterwards, I met up with Greg, Rachel, and Deme for drinks at Blue & Gold. I hadn't seen Rachel and Deme since the summer and it sure was fun catching up with the two loveliest ladies this side of the Mississips. I hope they come to visit me in LA this summer for I will show them a very nice time indeed.
Finally caught up with Life Aquatic today. Nice to bump into KVondy outside the theater: what a great gal. Anyway, I liked the movie enough to say I liked it though it's pretty clear Wes Anderson is starting to run out of steam. Pretty self-critical piece of filmmaking. Bill Murray wasn't terrible but he wasn't good. Though I hate to admit it, he was pretty incredible in Lost In Translation. Who's Wes' audience? There were maybe a handful of chuckles in the audience. I did find the jaguar-shark bit at the end very affecting and Cate Blanchett's character to be maybe the most lovely human being I've seen since Bernie Mac's Mr.3000 which btw is a fantastic fucking film and should not be missed on DVD come January.
So going up to Canada for a few days: have never been to Montreal but according to my cousin who went to McGill, the girls are outrageously hot and the weather bitter.
Merry Christmas! And to the nonbelievers, God's always knocking all you've got to do is let him in.
Love
Alex

Kleenex and cough drops / Jump Pony! Jump Pony!

This is gonna be short. New York this past weekend was a blast. I'm back in Connecticut now, and unfortunately, am suffering from some virus I caught in New York. Mom's taking good care of me. When I saw my dad, he walked up to me, gave me a hug, and told me, "Eric, you smell infected". Dad and I went to Barnes & Noble tonight, where I bought some last minute gifts for myself. (Correction: my dad paid for everything I was gonna buy. Thanks dad.) I bought Ted Leo & The Pharmacists, as well as The Fiery Furnaces's first album. On the way to Barnes & Farmes, I played my dad The Arcade Fire album which he liked more than I do. There's a huge post brewing... NYC was cold and amazing. Thanks to everyone who came out for the assorted depravities. Enjoyed your hugs and company immensely, Eric

P.S. Went into my parents' room to speak with Dad. Mom's got some workout dvd (Donna Richardson) where the theme is old school hip hop and Sugarhill Gang is the backing band. There's a part where I believe they are chanting "Jump on it." Mom is leaping around the room, chanting "Jump Pony, Jump Pony.". Anyway, Mom is awesome. And I've got a new mantra.

Saturday night, went to No.1 Chinese to celebrate my once lost, but now found cousin's 30th birthday. Glad things change so little when you turn 30: your friends still buy shots of Patron and try to get you shitfaced probably more so now that you're no longer in your roaring twenties but still come on haven't people had enough fun?; you and your friends are still trying to establish careers; you still get stoked about skiing/boarding out West (any of you been to Baker in Washington? supposedly very wicked w/ a lot of a beardies); you still hold onto the belief that there is "the one" out there somewhere and that all the people you've loved and hated and loved again in your twenties were mere approximations of that unmet "one's" uniqueness and eschatological yours-ness, but what's worse is your coming to grips w/ the fact that those exes think of you in exactly the same way: a snipped thread in the romantic fabric of their future (for some reason no joke, I picture a huge fucking sweater w/ like really, possibly infinitely, long arms) though you shudder to think that this is indeed true of them, that they might not miss you or think about you at all in the same way you might not miss them or think about them at all. Ouch.
Friends, when I turn thirty, I would like to be told the truth about the "you're my baby's daddy" thing so if I've fathered any of those lil' tykes I've seen scurrying about this past week, don't pull any punches: just tell me. I will be supportive up to a certain point and then it's all you.
Later that evening, went to Elizabeth's Christmas party. I've been really lucky the past few years to have gotten to know Andrea's coworkers. They're the best: kind, funny, serious cinephiles, and best of all, attractive. Unfortunately, GKirschling had to fly to Louisiana to interview John Grisham about his latest book, "Baseball: What S.J.Gould Didn't Tell You"---what's with these authors writing books on baseball anyway?---so he wasn't there but I figure writing about him in the blog would make him happy.
Sunday night dinner at Blue Ribbon in Park Slope. The king of all cafeterias.
Here's a breakdown of the movies I've seen this past week:
Primer: Top 10. Original. Confusing as heck. Inspiring.
Finding Neverland: Tearjerker. Passionless. Winslet keeps her bosom strapped up.
Million Dollar Baby: An improvement on Mystic River. Clint's great. Terrible cinematography.

My friend, my publicist, BTalbs

It's been real nice being back. I wake up @ 11, 12. I eat lunch, check my email, watch a little tv (a big deal b/c we don't have TV in LA), make some progress into the Garcia Marquez book my brother got me for Christmas last year, bowflex, etc. Then I go see friends for dinner and drinks. I have to say I'm eating incredibly well. Highlights: toffee pudding at Schillers, the beignet fritto at Bianca, lobster roll at Pearl Oyster Bar, langoustine gnocchi at Da Silvano (mom and dad wanted to go, not me). Tonight going to Al Di La, tops for Italian in Park Slope. Stewed tripe:mmmm.
Last night, met up with a few of my high school friends for some fantastic BBQ by the Fairway north of Columbia. Uh, what happened to UFM? Westside Market? Dynasty? What was with all those clearly transgendered students rallying in front of the 116th and B'way gates? Don't you have to study people? Never seen that before.
After dinner, a few of us went to 1020 which for those who aren't in the know is a bar that serves drinks and has a pool table and a dart board and dirty bathrooms. You can also sit down in these nice booths. I didn't go to 1020 much when I was in college b/c shit gets really hot in there and a good part of senior year was spent living off campus. My friends were tired but I wanted to continue drinking so to liven things up a little, I called the always dependable, always fun, BTalbs. She extended the night a good two and a half hours she did. She's a graduate student but we decided last night that she's going to be my publicist. And also Ritter's. Later on she started to freak me out about UVA and UVB rays. B, no matter what you say, I will not slather on sunscreen on a rainy day. That's just plain ridiculous.

Dave Scher, 26, of Saugatuck, Connecticut writes:

Things have been okay. Alex has been gone, which has given me a little breathing room for once. I’ve been wearing Alex’s clothes, sleeping in his bed, driving his car, and putting his credit card to good use to impress my dates (“it’s a “Beercan” 7”, the rarest vinyl Beck single, and I bought it for you”(I don’t tell them that Alex is gonna be footing the bill(man, when am I gonna start dating girls who appreciate beck memorabilia as gifts?))); I’ve been insisting that everyone out here calls me Alex Chung.
Things aren't the same. Alex isn’t here, and so my vulgar jokes have nowhere to go... Plus I have to do all the chores now (milking the cows, cleaning out the chicken coop, etc.)

Last weekend was great.
On Saturday morning, I woke up before the sun to drive Alex to the airport. I got out of the car to help him with his bags. We stood there and for some reason shook hands (as opposed to a hug or whatever.) Alex looked tired. I jumped in the car, hit the gas, and went on my way back to Hotel Los Feliz. Went back to sleep. When I woke up,
A-Ross, (you know, “the boss”) came over with loads of equipment. He set up his pro-tools equipped laptop, along with guitars, and a microphone for me to rap into. And we recorded a rough version of an M.C. Nuggets song, tentatively titled, “Do You Wanna Party With The Big Girls?” It’s not done yet, but even in its rough form, it’s a fun song. Will be happy to play it for people as soon as it’s done. Plus, I’ve got an album’s worth of lyrics so hopefully this is only the beginning. It’s great to have A-Ross in L.A.
Saturday night, Scards and I met up at her house, and drove over to J4’s holiday party. S-Brahms and Spragooey were both there. As were a lot of other people. I was going to bring a 12 pack of RC Cola and the still-mostly-full bottle of Crown Royal Whiskey, but I thought it might come across as an insult, like I don’t want this in my house so I’m dumping it on you. Don’t go thinking I showed up empty handed. Oh, no. Me, being the big craver of attention, pulled out a CD-R, to play the rough version of “Do You Wanna Party With The Big Girls?” for the whole party. Rough doesn’t even begin to describe it. Vocal tracks are mirrored right now so it sounds like two geeky twins rapping at the same time. In any case, I hadn’t intended to play it for a roomful of people, just J-4 and Spragooey, but in any case, people really liked the song and were laughing about it. I met lots of people at the party but mostly just spoke to Scards. On the way home, Scards and I were having a nice talk, which I interrupt as we drive by the Lamborghini Dealership in Beverly Hills. I’m not a Lamborghini fan (Except for the Miura and the early Countach (LP400) which are both beautiful designs) so hadn’t really ever paid much attention to this dealership. But sitting there in the window is a yellow Porsche Carerra GT. This is a new Porsche supercar. It costs $440,000 and is a mid-engine roadster. In any case, I pulled over and stared at it for a minute. I apologized to Scards, but she seemed to understand, I think. (For anyone wondering, if I could drive any car, it’d either be a ‘70’s Ferrari 246 Dino or an early 50’s Mercury with a chopped roof).

Sunday was good. I can’t recall most of it. I called E-Mags and told her that I wanted to go have lunch. We ended up going to gingergrass in silverlake for some vietnamese (This is where Alex and I ate the giant crab a couple weeks back). I ordered a sandwich, which was like Banh-Mi I’ve had in NYC but on a longer, skinnier roll. The summer rolls were better this time around. And the Spring Rolls were stellar.
On Sunday night, E-Mags invited me to join her and DM to go see “The Life Aquatic” at The Grove. Let me get this off my chest right now. I like Wes Anderson’s work a lot. “Rushmore” has been off-and-on my favorite movie (yes, of all time) since ‘99. Tenenbaums, I thought, was a masterpiece of style ‘though it’s not a favorite film. I read reviews of TLA and was worried. I mean, Armond White liked it, which is never a good sign. I’m not in the mood to write a review, but I’ll say that overall, the film drags on like a drag queen with a broken heel. It’s beautiful to look at (both production design and cinematography), and the soundtrack is great, ‘though I don’t know how amused I’m supposed to be each time it cuts to the guy singing another David Bowie song in Portuguese. A lot of the Owen Wilson moments had me wishing for a remote control so I could fast forward the film. Bud Cort is amazing in his first scene. At times, the film felt manipulative in trying to harvest audience emotions. Have Bill Murray sad, hold on his face, and the audience will feel, right? Not me, a lot of the time. It’s a goofy film with some stellar long takes, but I felt afterwards like all I could say was that the experience of watching it was “pleasant” and that I felt like I didn’t have much of a reaction. This is the same thing that happend to me with “Sideways” by the way. Sometimes, films don’t connect... But when they do, it’s incredible.... I mean, that’s why I want to make them... Anyway, not a huge disappointment, but there’s so many movies made a year, you can’t pin all your hopes on one of them.

Monday - I looked for jobs and worked on the pilot in the afternoon. Neighbor Matt and I went to Beverly Tofu House on Olympic. It’s great, but if I were you, I’d skip the spicy squid. Great atmosphere and the service is incredible. Afterwards, Neighbor Matt, Neighbor Nat, and I headed to The Bigfoot Lodge (I think that’s it’s name). Little did we know going in that it was karaoke night. Well, it was. Half the karaoke singers we saw were very good (I got grumpy, ‘cause I think it’s weird when talented singers sing karaoke). Drew Carey got up and did karaoke. The first celeb I’ve seen doing karaoke, but I should get used to it, I mean, this is L.A. Lots of hipsters there. The bar is lit in red and decorated like a cabin inside, including a fireplace. Bars in LA are weird. I’ll usually have only one drink, ‘cause I know I’m gonna have to drive home, and I think drunk driving is reckless, awful and unnecessary. New York definitely has L.A. beat on the drinking front. Feel like I might get blitzed in NYC this weekend.

It’s Tuesday now. Tomorrow, I’m getting on a 9:30pm plane to NYC. I land in NYC at 5:35 on Thursday morning. Going home for a week and a half This weekend, I’ll be in New York City, hanging with Paul, Martha, Kirshbaum, Molly, and Bonnie. And of course, Alex, who I just don’t see enough of out here. I mean, he lives upstairs, I live downstairs.... After NYC/CT, I head with the fam for a week in the Dominican Republic, where I’ll gamble, drink umbrella drinks on the beach, and get a good sunburn to show everyone in L.A. when I get back on January 2nd.... It’s 1am, I just got back from doing laundry. While my laundry was in the dryer, I went to The Drawing Room for a tonic water with lime. (This is what I drink when I’m not drinking). I haven’t been in that place for a couple of weeks (Went with DM and E-Mags a few weeks back); An elderly man named Henry got in the seat next to me and started talking. He had a lot of missing teeth. He told me, “I’m really searching for a friend today”, and he chewed my ear off about how great a day it was for him. (Dear toothless retirees, you know I love you, really. Yet, although I’m single, I’m still a little selective in terms of the people I want to become friends with at dive bars. So don’t take it as an insult when I don’t buy you a drink or take you for a quick ride to lookout point (aka Makeout Mania).)

Will try to post blog postings from the East Coast. Gonna go pack my bags. New York, roll out the red carpet. Nuggets arrives tomorrow at dawn. Your friend, Eric

No to Pedro Yes to Primer

The Mets are minutes away from signing Pedro to a long-term contract. DON'T DO IT! Not another over-the-hill free agent! He had a decent season but these are the Mets and no free agent fares well with the Mets. I hope I'm wrong but let's see: Mo Vaughn, Roberto Alomar, Shawn Estes, Jeremy Burnitz, Tom Glavine, Mike Cameron, Kaz Matsui...not looking good.
Last night, saw one of the best films of the year: PRIMER. Go see it. Filmmakers, see what 7,000 bucks can get you. TO whomever's reading this, let's pool together a few bucks and make a feature this summer!
Grabbed dinner with PCic at Bianca, a sweet cash-only Italian joint in the Bowery. It's what LA sorely lacks: a casual, moderately priced neighborhood restaurant that serves terrific food and drink, one whose waitstaff is warm and attentive. LA waiters are either stupid pricks or are so eager to please they might as well get down on their knees and fellate/slurp the living shit out of you. I remember taking ARoss to Koi for lunch and the waiter---a dead ringer for Jason Lewis---couldn't shut up about how totally awesome such-and-such dish is---Koi is good but ain't no Mori Sushi--- or about how great the Minnesota Twins are blah blah blah. Dude, you're from South Dakota (no joke), what do you know about anything? Don't get much of that here thankfully: just respect and space.

New York

Gotta thank ELane for being such a good sport Saturday morning. Left the house @ 5:20AM to make the 7:15AM flight to Newark, NJ. Slept much of the way there. Have to say that I've definitely become a flying pussy. The slightest tilt or rumble puts me in a seriously prayerful mode.
I met up with a few friends Saturday night. I missed the city but I soon realized that I'm slowly becoming an Angeleno (hate that word but oh well). The pace, the weather, the weird mix of suburban and concrete, etc.: I love living in a house with a driveway, having a neighbor I can entrust my keys to, pedestrians who don't jaywalk thereby allowing me to drive like really fast, helicopters that hover over Hollywood, and on occasion, echoey gunshots at night. Definitely felt a little like a tourist. But it was great to see everyone again. The group was a little too big for me to catch up with everyone the way I'd like to, but I'm sure there'll be many more opportunities to get tight again with'em.
Saw Ocean's 12 at the Ziegfeld: slept through about 20 minutes of it. A big bad bore. Soderbergh's a freaking hack.
Then Schillers: sure, it's probably lost much of its lustre, but I fucking love that place. Where else can you sit 14 friends for drinks and chow at half past midnight and watch Sean Lennon---when's the new album coming out dude?---have a couple of drinks with his, I'm pretty sure of this, high school friends? Unfortunately, a few of my friends had work on Sunday so we couldn't tear it up too bad but staying out till 4 the first night back was pretty fun.
Then Sunday morning I woke up at 3pm. Jetlag.

a boring fictional roadtrip to Japan (a new post by Alex below this one, by the way...)

Last night was bowling night. Quarter a game at Pico Bowl on Wednesdays. (5 bucks to get started, I think) I rolled two frames. Didn’t score near 300 either time. Was bowling with Nsay, J4 (sister of J3), S-Brahms, Spragooey, and some other folks.
I got goofy at the end and started trying to get everyone to join me in a midnight drive to Mexico. (I’ve never been to Mexico). I wanted an adventure, but everyone else had work the next day (today) so I got in my car, and drove it really quickly onto the beach and into the Pacific Ocean... I drove for thousands of undersea miles until I hit Japan. I drove up onto the shore. I knew it was Japan because Takeshi Kitano was standing there on the beach, refereeing a beach volleyball championship between famous monster friends of Godzilla's (Btw U & I, Mothra is looking a little strung out). I said the only thing I know how to say in Japanese: “Sushi, Uni, Unagi, Maguro, Toro, Gyoza, Age Dofu”. Beat T. laughed and blew his whistle. I looked at my watch. It was getting pretty late. I got back into my car and drove back to California. Man, the ocean is not only many miles wide, it’s also very deep. Good thing I had a full tank of gas, and a fast enough ride to outrun the Giant Squid. You know, this whole driving to Japan story is made up (really? - you say), which would be fine if it made for funny reading. It doesn’t. I’m sorry. I really just drove home from bowling and went to sleep. But, it sounds like S-Brahms really might be into renting a car with me and heading to Mexico. If such a road trip happens, you'll get the story as soon as I'm conscious/sober enough to write it...

Today - Went to the gym. Wanted to lift some weights but my wrist was sore from the previous night’s bowling. Napped this afternoon for an hour. Woke up and worked with DM on the pilot. We’ve got 4 acts plotted out. (It’s a 1 hour show). We’ve done this by writing a summary of every scene on a notecard. The notecards are on a bulletin board, and we move them around to try and figure out how all the storylines fit together. I hope we get to pitch this tv show. i like our show idea and it’s the kinda show i’d watch. (then again, i like a lot of shows that only lasted one season, so what do i know). lately, we’ve been spending half our writing time watching episodes of the O.C. (Season 1). I can’t say I love the O.C., but I can say it’s really addictive television. Mischa Barton delivers lines like she's in a Bresson film (B Bomb #1 in this post)

Got an e-mail from Kirschbaum today about music. He mentioned Joanna Newsom. I’d heard about her but hadn’t actually heard anything. Until today. I bought her CD. And I’m wowed and confused. She really doesn’t sound like most of the music I’ve heard before in my life. Her voice is sort of like if Bjork was American... (She sounds childlike at times, otherworldy at others) The instrumentation is pretty pretty pretty, and the lyrics, wowee... This is delicate autumn music meant to inspire strange dreams... i don’t know what some of these songs are about, but I’m glad I’ve got some new music in my life that I like this much... So her voice sounds like a 7 year old girl version of Cat Power and her lyrics are the best I’ve heard in a long time. Thanks Kirschbaum. I owe you a good music rec.

Tonight I went to a screening with Scards. We saw a movie for free. The movie is looking for a distributor. There was a balding actor in the film who made me laugh really hard a couple times. Just solid deadpan delivery.

Got home. Chatted with Alex. E-Mags picked me up and took me to a diner. I had a hamburger with avacado slices on it. Well, at least I went to the gym today I thought to myself as I bit into the sublimity. Then E-Mags took me to Rite Aid. (I had to show E-Mags pictures of one of my ex-gf’s in Maxim; um, yeah, I totally dumped that girl in the bikini; why? she fell asleep during Au Hasard Balthazar (that's me dropping the B-Bomb for the 2nd time)) We looked through the magazines and I found a strange one, I think it’s called Exercise for Men. It’s got pictures of dudes flexing but totally in a different way than in most other workout magazines I’d imagine. I think this magazine is targeted towards gay bodybuilders. Like, the guys are ripped, but posing in jean cutoffs in very alluring ways. Anyway, the ab routines looked pretty good so I picked up a copy. These guys really know how to crunch. Anyway, I had a talk with E-Mags earlier re: Maxim and how I used to read it on airplanes but because of my fear of air travel I no longer read it. I explained that my fear is that the plane will crash and I’ll be confronted by Jesus who will be like, “Why didn’t you believe in me?” and I’d be like, “I dunno. I’m Jewish.” And then he’d be okay with that answer but then be like, “What’s the most recent thing you did?” and I’d have to answer, “I was reading Maxim.”. So, I’m afraid of dying, and being confronted by the fact that I should’ve been Christian instead of Jewish and that if Maxim is the magazine I’m reading on the plane, it’s gonna get me in trouble with the tripartite almighty? Yep. Does this make sense? (Don't answer.) You see, I don’t believe in Christianity. But I’m still frightened by it. Anyway, I don’t think this is a major problem ‘cause my fear of being judged poorly by a god I don’t believe in doesn’t really permeate any other sphere of my life. Plus, I’ve got enough major neuroses to deal with that this one doesn’t seem too weird. Did I mention I’m single? Yeah! Plus, isn't there a commandment that says 26 year old boys shouldn’t read magazines that are designed as dirty magazines for boys not yet old enough to buy real dirty magazines? I just checked the bible. There is no such commandment. Um, in future posts I’ll try to be less crazy.

What else? I booked my ticket home to the East Coast. I’ll be spending next weekend in New York City. And get to spend more than a couple of days with my family. Speaking of family, one of my sisters got accepted to Columbia today. I’m so incredibly excited for her. While I'm saddened that Columbia Hot Bagels closed before she got to Columbia, Koronet lives! - Eric

P.S. Anyone else really enjoy british blogs? I really like stuff like this:
"Went down to the pub and had a session, then made our way to someone's place and got quite blotto. Highlight was a dinner of the HOTTEST chinese beef curry and rice with chips through it. Sounds rank, but it's amazing. Well when your half cut, a scabby dug tastes good eh? First mouthful, my windpipe went on strike in 0.1 of a second, and I was choking. Funnily enough so was my cousin in the sink. Family trait? After that hurdle, it was wolfed down in quick-smart world record beating speed. Then we watched The Life of Brian and had a giggle. After that my cousin and I cut a track back to his gaff..." Um, i don't know what a scabby dug is, but imagine it's like a garbage plate (something drunk people in upstate new york eat - http://www.geocities.com/garbageplates/ has info). Anyway, the quote above is from http://thelifeofreilly.blogspot.com/ which is a blog I just stumbled on in my internet travels (i mean, internet travels when not going on monster.com to see if there is anyone hiring a filmmaking paralegal with a penchant for ridiculous rhymes...)

So close

Woke up at the asscrack of dawn to take my sound final exam. 76 multiple choice questions in half an hour. What is the .1 in Dolby 5.1? What is worldizing? What kind of microphone does this picture describe? While bubbling in the scantron, all I could think of was: will Barneys still have the dull black cotton/silk blend Martin Margiela suit (size 48/38) on the racks when I go for a visit on Sunday? No one saw Alfie, but fyi, his suits were all by Margiela.
I've been to the Barneys in LA a few times and I do not like the layout at all: it's much too much like Saks. Too many racks stuffed with way too much clothing. There's actual effort involved to find stuff that's cool and unaffordable. The New York Barneys has the right attitude: these are no mere clothes, but rather, exorbitantly priced "pieces" and should be displayed as such. Easy to see and judge things as being either too fruity or too Rei Kawakubo circa 1980. Unfortunately, I've got no money which blows b/c while some people like to collect DVDS or bid on eBay as a means of retail therapy, I on the other hand like to celebrate or get over a hump by buying, once a year, at least two ridiculously expensive designer pieces at Barneys. Best part: I have shit shoes.
Anyway, have my last final tomorrow. Acting. I'm no thesp, but shit's fun. I'm in a scene from Good Will Hunting where I'm Lambeau (the math professor) and BJ's Sean (Robin Willams). Here are some of my lines:
"He has a gift and with that gift comes responsibility."
"Oh, that's nice, Sean."
"He won't be a failure."
Acting is seriously hard and I have so much respect for those special folk who can take on the burden of living another person's life.
After class, there are a couple of get-togethers and then on Saturday, back in NEW YORK CITY! First on the list: Schiller's w/ the EW/SI/DETAILS/Matthew C-G crew.

FIRE!

First, I have to thank Sarah Lebo for waiting online to get tickets to the Arcade Fire show at Spaceland last night. You are wonderful.
So yeah, 1st LA rock show. 1st rock show since I don't know when. I'd been listening to Funeral a whole lot and expected the show to be great. And it was. Danced up a storm I did. Showered at 1:30AM which was a nice feeling. Saw Beck!
Spaceland's a tiny venue not dissimilar to the main stage at the Knitting Factory. For some reason, the AC was busted and so everyone was sweating juicy gobs of sweat. The smell.
I could go on and on about why the show was great, but the thing I liked the most was how much fun they were having especially this one guy---sorta looks like an ex-girlfriend's younger brother---who didn't always play an instrument but whose vigor and joy was infectious. Even the weak link on the album---the female singer---was really lovely to watch and so damn adorable!
Best thing I can say is that the show may have restored my faith in live rock shows.
(Sorry Lebo, this post sucks so you win the bet)

What party?

In fact, Eric and I did NOT throw a party on Saturday night. He's just lying that cheeky wanker.
What we did over the weekend is as follows:
1) Saturday morning, went to COLOR ME MINE in Valencia to paint soup spoons to give as Christmas/Hanukah gifts to friends and family back East. They are nice and colorful.
2) Saturday afternoon, ate at In-and-Out. Double-double animal style.
3) Early Saturday night, rented Mrs. Doubtfire. I'm a big fan.
4) Late Saturday night, Eric took me to Spearmint Rhino. That was fun. Thanks Eric.
5) Sunday morning, called my mom. She's well thanks for caring.
6) Sunday afternoon, read NYTimes.
7) Sunday night, saw Alexander. Very nice movie.
So, all in all, pretty fucking boring.
Love
Alex

Royal Royal Crown Crown, the Henry Kissinger of drinks... (why kissinger? because the R2C2 might look dorky, but means serious business)

Oh my goodness. They came, They drank, They got conquered. 2 words to describe the party: Awe. Some.

Friday night: E-Mags comes over. We make Jell-o shots, only ‘cause neither of us had ever made them and thought the party could only be better with them. It made me feel like I was young again. (There are days lately where 26 feels old). I mean, every wine and cheese party has jell-o shots, right?

Saturday was a day spent prepping for the party. Cleaning my room took hours. Which was worth it. I mean, Beej got a good night sleep, right? (More on that later. By the way, Beej is a gentleman who brought our party to the next level by showing up with a cooler full of liquor bottles. He’s an amazing guy who really was honorary host of the shindig). Saturday morning, I organized my room, built the Ikea nightstand (that had been unbuilt since I bought it way back in August ‘04.), and ate Life Cereal (A not-so quick aside: I fall for sales/deals at the supermarket all the time. If you bought 2 boxes of Life Cereal, it was 2 dollars off or something like that. Now if Life cereal was a brand that I commonly enjoy, maybe this offer would have made sense, but really, if I had to describe this cereal, I’d call it “soggy squares with an interesting taste”. Anyway, after I finish all of my Life Cereal, I’m gonna go back to Grape Nuts. I love Grape Nuts. It’s like eating pebbles in milk. I imagine Grape Nuts is/are animal feed somewhere that somehow became a breakfast cereal. In any case, I’m eating healthier these days. I mean, I wasn’t ever using Mini Chips Ahoy as cereal and calling it a superior Cookie Crisp, or anything like that. But still, better to be having a bowl of cereal over a breakfast burrito. That being said, Sunday after the party, I had chilaquiles for breakfast, which is pretty much scrambled eggs, cheese, and tortilla chips. It’s good hangover food, it’s pretty much the Atkins diet, but with carbs.) Can’t help doing these parenthetical asides; they’re so tempting. (I know I’m not posting a lot lately, but hopefully these 15,000 word posts keep people entertained.) So, Saturday morning is finished. Alex and I get in the car, go grab lunch, and then head to Target. I buy wooden chairs for right inside the front door, so people have somewhere to sit when they put their shoes on (shoes, a funny topic to also be discussed later). We also get super-cheap outdoor foldable camping chairs. They’re built for little people and aren’t particularly comfortable, but perfectly fine for short sits. We then progress to whole foods. Alex insists that people will be impressed if we serve nice cheeses. I restrain myself and don’t buy one called “Stinking Bishop” ‘cause I mean, cheese can smell, but really at a certain point, isn’t something that smells more of earthy decay than fermentation just punishment? I get Dauphinois (imagine a slightly smelly Brie) and Piave. (Alex, I’m sure will have plenty to talk about in regard to his cheese choices). We also buy crackers, baguettes and adequate guacamole (come on Whole Moods, make awesome guacamole for me to serve to my awesome guests. Mushy guacamole just isn’t gonna cut it next time.) Alex goes into overdrive and starts loading up on nice bottles of wine (we’re having a wine and whiskey party) for people who won’t be drinking the Two Buck Chuck. (Nobody drank the Two Buck Chuck. We have nine bottles left. Um, sounds like I’ll be making poached pears and other wine reduction recipes for the next couple of weeks). We head home, unpack, and then hit the road again. This time we head to Trader Joe’s. (Trader Joe’s is a chain of gourmet shops with some super low prices. People shopping act like it’s the greatest thing ever, like it’s the Disney World of supermarkets. I like Trader Joe’s, but come on, it’s no Stew Leonard’s. (Stew’s is a market in Norwalk that is not only the world’s largest dairy store, but also has singing milk cartons, a petting zoo, and free ice cream for every hundred dollars you spend. They have a glass wall through which you can watch cartons move along a conveyor belt before being filled with milk. Norwalk is the original Stew Leonard’s. There are other ones now, but come on, Norwalk is the original). Alex and I buy (Alex buys, I need to pay him back for my share) a box of two Buck Chuck, some food, 4 bottles of Lambic Framboise (fruity belgian beer that everyone should try at least once. You know, like the Octopus fritters at Otafuku on 9th bet. 2nd and 3rd in NYC) and also 2 bottles of Jameson’s (we end up going through 1 and a half bottles. Ain’t no party like a film school party...)
We head home and unpack. Beej comes over to edit with Alex. He says he’s gonna bring some stuff for the party. I have no idea, that he means he’s gonna bring along an open bar on wheels that would be enough for most weddings. Alex heads out to the gym. I keep cleaning my room.
At 8pm we’re ready.
8:30pm - Alex’s friend B shows up to cook some brownies (which people seemed to enjoy a lot! wonder what her recipe is...). I didn’t have one, ‘cause a) I’m a square (see, i even use the term “square) and b) ‘cause people grabbed the brownies like they were free ipods being given out.
B tells me and Alex that we should wear suits. So we do. Grey suits, white shirts, and ties. We look so cool. I of course, quickly stumble and spill wine all over my shirt. Biggest party foul of the night? Not a chance. Bring on the decadence, maestro!
For the next few hours, I’m not looking at the clock. People start arriving at 9. Pretty soon, I realize that most of the people coming are Alex’s classmates. And a lot are actually contributing to the massive amount of beverages in the kitchen. I was hoping some of my ex-workmates would come, but I invited them late (Friday) and also, perhaps there was awkwardness there... Film school kids were all happy to see each other outside the classroom. Sounded like it’s been a long semester and they were all happy to unwind. At one point, someone asked about the Royal Royal Crown Crown (R2C2 from here on out; thanks ME-L for the abbreviation!) and I remembered that this was something I had promised people. I quickly make one for myself. All I can say is, cola wars are about to be changed forever. Pepsi and Coke, watch your rearview. Thanks to me, RC Cola is about to rise up, triumphant. First the hipsters are gonna like it (like PBR) but then everyone is gonna be doing it. Does R2C2 taste the same as every other whiskey&cola drink ever? As expected, Yes. But saying, “Royal Royal Crown Crown” feels so immature and great. For me, it’s this year’s Shirley Temple with Bourbon. Anyway, I posed for a “Birth of the R2C2” picture that is so stupid, my parents will of course, be proud of the work I’m doing in the realm of inventing drinks that college freshman will throw down on those non-Jagermeister, non-18packsofcheapbeer nights... I had many many R2C2's. And I enjoyed each and every one of them.
Two of Alex’s classmates came in costume. One was Batman-esque, like if Batman wasn’t a depressed multi-millionaire living in seclusion, but instead a club kid who also happened to be a superhero. Another came with a giant mascot head of a bear. Everyone at the party, I believe wore the Bearhead at one point. When I put it on, I immediately began roughhousing with Alex’s film partner for next semester at school. Some kuncklehead jumped in at this point and slapped me across the neck when I had the bearhead on, and I got scared/angry. I took off the bear head off and told everyone, “Hands off.” Alex’s film partner immediately apologized as did I for the awkwardness of it. Mo (Moe) is a super nice guy and I feel bad that the drunken goofing around roughhousing had gotten weird, just ‘cause someone else felt like they wanted to slap the bear in the neck. I’m not much for playfighting, but as they say, “when you’ve got the mascot head on...” Um, Mo (Moe), if you read this, you’re a really nice guy and apologies for the weirdness. It wasn’t you. It was the slap to the neck from 3rd party knucklehead.
Anyway, weirdness there quickly subsided. People were dancing! Alex and I had made a mix. I took care of the indie rock/pop and Alex took care of the hip-hop. I berated a classmate of Alex’s who changed the order of the playlist, which at the time I felt guilty for but honestly, you can act however you want at your party, that’s why you throw them, right? The dancing was great. I was standing with people and one of the songs I wrote the lyrics for for my ninja movie came on. I of course, being modest, started telling everyone to be quiet because “I wrote this!” Matt, the neighbor told me he liked the songs I’d done for my ninja movie “Fists of the Saugatuck”. Matt’s roommate, neighbor Nat, came over, dressed cooler than anyone else at the party. She brought a bottle of whiskey to add to the mayhem that was our bottle covered countertop. DM (Writing partner) and E-Mags came. They’re cool. DM and I each drank a bottle of Lambic Framboise (they’re the size of beer bottles). Alex’s classmates who’d met me before, remembered me. Whoops. Sorry I had no clue who some of you were. You film students all look the same to me. You know, light meters around the neck, Andre Bazin books in tow, etc.
It’s hard now to remember a lot of the details of what was going on. Good times. More and more people kept coming. And very few were leaving.
Around 2am, T-Sags comes in. He’d been working all day on the set of a giant movie. It was great to see him. Once the shoot wraps and he’s not working superlong days, I hope to hang with him more frequently.
Around 3:30 people started to filter out. Alex and I told anyone who wanted to could crash at our place or they could take a cab home.
At around 4, Alex goes into his room and there are people asleep (actually, beyond asleep. annihilated.) there. He figures he can sleep on the couch. Nope, someone’s already there. My room? Beej was already asleep on my bed. Alex and I grabbed sleeping bags and camped out... we slept on the floor of the living room. Which is fine. I’m glad these sleepy folks didn’t drive home...
I don’t think Alex or I knew how amazing a time the party would be. Sunday, I wake up at 7am when the house shakes. Was there an earthquake or was I dreaming? I have no idea. So I open a book on Alex’s bookshelf and start reading film theorists’ takes on some famous films (Ratboy, Rollerbabies, The Neverending Story, D.A.R.Y.L., nor The Sicilian Connection (aka Pizza Connection) are mentioned once). At 11am, people start getting up. At 1, we all go out for breakfast. J has one of his shoes but the other one is missing. There’s one lone pink sneaker. Someone left and took one of J’s shoes. I loan him a pair of silly leather hip office shoes. We all go to Eat Well on Sunset. And yes, the chilaquiles are great when you have a hangover the size of a Maybach. Before we sit down, I tells S.H.Lebo all ‘bout the short I shot last summer. Telling the story of “Paralegal”, I realize how much I want to finish the film. I really think it’s gonna be my best film yet. Post-chilaquiles, post-whatever-else-anyon-else-ordered, We go back to the house. I decide to nap. I wake up at 6 and Alex has done all the cleaning. I feel like a bad roommate. Although appreciative. Alex and I go out for Thai food at Palms (The Singing Thai Elvis isn’t on stage, but a soft rock guitarist is. He does some Beatles, luckily no “Long and Winding Road). Alex and I are wise for once and don’t ask for the food to be spicy. Pad Thai turns out to be terrific. I know, pad thai, how boring. But you know, there’s just those days you don’t want spicy goat on a stick or wild boar in coconut milk. Was hopeful that Alex and I would emerge from the weekend, each of us now having a girlfriend. That wasn’t to be. But hey, maybe I should just stop whining and just sign up for J-Date already. And we did have a party that made a lot of people, including us, very happy. It’s great to play host. ‘Though it does get expensive. Maybe next time we should get a corporate sponsor. Don’t tell me, I’m a step ahead of you; I’ve already called RC Cola. They’ll get back to me.

In short, Alex and I had a party. People came thirsty. The thirst was quenched. I’m missing a lot of details. Everyone feel free to post comments to add in what I left out. Classmates of Alex, you’re a supernice bunch of folk. Thanks for coming to our house. Come again soon. We’ve got enough RC to last us months. -Eric

How relaxed am I? Let me count the ways...

Week’s been good, although unproductive for the first few days. (Read: Gym, Lord of the Rings Video Game, Burritos, Sleeping in)
Alex and I went to a Vietnamese place in Silverlake last night for dinner. In addition to the pho (mine was good) and summer rolls (too chewy), Alex and I split a giant crab. Kosher: Not at all. Delicious? Very much so. Alex and I were cracking open the claws in our mouths, sucking out meat, and spitting the shells out. Post emptied exoskeleton and post Wetnaps, Alex and I headed home. I then went on a short drive up to a bar called The Roost. E-Mags and I had some drinks and we rocked the jukebox. Now when I say we rocked the jukebox, what I mean is, we chose songs that the boozing hipsters at neighboring booths thought were cool. There was a birthday party (of skirt wearing guys from Tulsa, of all places) that went into overdrive when “Soul Finger” came on. A couple in a nearby booth were makingout/necking/firstbasing/hookingup/liplocking/whathaveyou and I felt like we were providing the soundtrack. E-Mags believed that this looked like a couple early in their relationship. There was a middle age guy hitting on a years-past middle age woman at the bar. He was like Ben Stiller in the Ben Stiller show, "Do it". He kept insisting on buying this lady a drink. She said, "I'm married." He said, "Of course, you're a very pretty lady. Have a drink." He kept insisting.
Was in bad listener mode yesterday. Driving A-Scards to the westside, I would slowly stop listening while she spoke, and then I’d interrupt her stories with whatever I was thinking about. I’m a terrible listener sometimes...
Feel like I'm pretty much over losing my job. Have been cleaning all afternoon to get ready for tomorrow night's shindig. Gonna go out shopping tonight for all sorts of party goodies (you know, the usual: Bacardi 151 and Bic Lighters). Really excited 'though have no idea where people are gonna park. Some may have to park blocks away and then walk to our house. Walking more than a block to get anywhere is a strange thought to a lot of folks outside of Manhattan. Bought the RC Cola. Gotta get the Crown Royal Whiskey. And then I can kick back with friends and have some Royal Royal Crown Crowns, a drink I've never tasted, but have invented. It's not an elegant name, and it's hard to say quickly when ordering, but I think it'll catch on: Yeah, Royal Royal Crown Crown is totally the new Jack and Coke.
And please don't e-mail me with all these questions about what Alex is wearing to the party. I don't know yet. I'm just his roommate, not his stylist. (I'd guess blue jeans and dark sportcoat, but then again, maybe he's pulling out the madras pants and lacoste shirt)
I'll report back on the debauchery/mayhem that is our party as soon as it's over. Hopefully, I'll embarass myself and propose marriage to a girl I've just met. Hmmm, maybe I can just wear the tearaway warmup pants and make sure that MJ's "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough" is on the iTunes playlist. 'Cause that's the kinda night tomorrow should be. As Nuggets would say: Scandalous! Ridiculous! / Can you handle this, 'cause I'm ticklish?
Anyway, songs I put on the jukebox yesterday (that I remember):
The Zombies - This Will Be Our Year
The Beatles - And your Bird Can Sing
Bar Kays (sp?) - Soul Finger
Johnny Cash - Rowboat (a Beck cover; Rowboat was on Stereopathetic Soul Manure, a compilation album of sorts of early beck songs, Satan Gave Me a Taco is not the most important song on the album for me, I prefer Modesto which sort of feels like a great song about Southern California cities; Putting it Down is good, Alex as I remember really likes Crystal Clear Beer)
The Shins (you know the band that'll change your life) - Gone For Good

In the car, I played Elizabeth Iron & Wine (Most recent album), Loudon Wainwright, and Kings of Convenience (Most recent Album). Loudon Wainwright has this "Last Man on Earth " Album. The lyrics are sometimes forced but the emotion is so sad. If you ever need a melancholic album about the sadness of middle age (and your parents dying and kids moving out) as opposed to a sad album about being in your 20's and having to break up with your girlfriend on the Lower East Side 'cause she's moving all the way to Astoria.

Astoria rocks by the way. Bohemianhall.com. Need more be said.
Everyone have a great weekend. - Ericlly yours, Eric

Mussed Hair

Seeing how it's been so chilly the past week here in LA, I've stopped showering daily. Because of that, I've had awesome albeit grody bedhead hair of late. Today was a particularly good hair day. Probably the best I've looked all year. Holy shit, I'm one good looking guy!
Anyway, it's 1AM on a Thursday night and I'm working while Eric is out at a bar boozing w/ EMags. I'm editing a group project that is pretty fun to cut up considering the story ain't up my alley. For those curious about my alley...well I recommend you read some Genesis and put your hand over a lit stove.
I'm also finishing up a bottle of pretty good pinot from Trader Joe's.
Is 2 Buck Chuck (aka Charles Shaw) eo ipso delectable? Hmmm. I ask b/c a few people who are coming to the big celebration on Saturday have requested I have some of it on stock. I have yet to try it. Yes! Score one for the dork: I used eo ipso in a sentence.

Just Do The Math Omar

Omar Minaya wants to be a major player this off season but going after Pedro is not the way to do it. Let the Yankees have him. 3 years for 38.5 million is way too much for a guy who's definitely on the downside of an amazing career. Do the math people: 5 1/3 innings per start, 27 starts a season (fine, ARoss, 28 starts), multiply those numbers by 3 and you know uh divide 38,500,000 by whatever you get when you multiply those stuffs and you get a dollars per innings pitched number that's you know not good. So Omar, don't be stupid. The Mets have developed a terrible habit of going after aging former allstars who do jack during the season though I have to say that back in the day, watching Mo Vaughn huffing and puffing down the 1st base line was pretty pleasurable. The Mets should stop going after old guys (except for Sosa who's gonna hit a lot more homers before his career's over) and stick to the youth movement. So Omar, Eric and I are willing to negotiate contracts for next season: it's your move buddy.