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