Feliz Cumpleanos, Senora Stacy!

Do I even need to say Staces is Aces? Happy Birthday beautiful lady, I hope you have a great one. All my love.
xoxoxox

Friendship Happens

Happy Birthday Sarah!!!!!

This will be a nontraditional birthday post because Sarah is nontraditional and that's exactly what is magical about her. Recently, while eating brunch with Stacy, Stacy described Sarah as a unicorn, and it made me take pause, yes, how apt, how perfectly appropriate, Sarah is a unicorn, mythical, beautiful, and rare, and also, don't cross a unicorn! No pictures of dear Sarah, she is not to be seen on the nets, but none the less, Happy Birthday my beautiful friend, you take me back to another time, you make me think of childhood and safety but also the wild rebellion of youth. Thank you for so much. Gallop on!


Also, I know you don't mind sharing your birthday post with Mali, the beautiful little hippo from Bangkok who turns 44 today. Love to all creatures great and small!

WAKE UP!

It's time for veggie burgers and pie!



strawberry fig pie with lemon caramel reduction and veggie burgers with avocado, grilled onions, cheddar and bbq sauce.

Dis and Dat

Things I love: MEN. I love MEN so fucking hard. I saw them last year with Stacy and my head blew open. They combine everything that is wonderful about music: actual fucking musicality, inventiveness, politics and button pushing, thought provoking lyrics, and awesome rad artistic original dance awesomeness. I've harped on and on and on and believe me I'm no Camilla Paglia fan, the woman has a screw loose, but Men is a perfect example of why I don't like, can't accept Gaga. Because bands like Men are doing the real thing every day. Okay, Gaga, call yourself a performance artist, call yourself a provocateur, call yourself whatever, but don't call yourself a musician. Pop star, sure, but surely Men play 'pop' with a capital 'P'. Friends have said, 'Oh but kids in high school listen to Gaga and she exposes them to new kinds of music. Lazy, lazy excuse. Why can't we just elevate bands like Men and then we wouldn't have to have limp dick versions of what real groundbreaking music sounds like? Thin paper artifices of what we were really stabbing at? It's absurd! That logic, that 'oh but she's exposing mainstream kids who grow up in strip malls to meat dresses, John Lennon glasses and middle fingers' is ridiculous. But what is it for? What does it stand for if her lyrics are as dry and insipid and 'baby how can I get you back?' as the rest of them? Girlfriend doesn't sound any different than Katy Perry, Britney Spears or any of the rest. I know she supports gay rights and she's done it vocally, that is WONDERFUL, but great, be a politician, be a performance artist. I can't be the only one who still thinks, music, actual MUSIC, the power of sound and movement is political and resistant. The music IS the movement. Not the costume, not the magazine cover. The sound that comes at you from the mix tape, the youtube music video. And I say bullshit to the idea that kids in strip malls can't understand or appreciate bands like Men, growing up in a town made out of strip malls doesn't mean you aren't gay, isolated, misunderstood, angry or in need of real actual music that encourages you to get out and dance your fucking ass off in a field with your friends to fuck the fascists. It insults the intelligence of those kids to say that all they can understand is Gaga's bag of mixed messages. She's still on the cover of Glamour. Believe me, if you put Men on the cover of Rolling Stone and gave them the same kind of media attention that Katy Perry and Gaga get, they would embrace it the same way. That's why music is wonderful, that's why music is important. As soon as we say that the music is incidental we loose the magical glue that has held musical community, musical identification, musical resistance, together for so long. That glue is what it's all about, that thin invisible thread, that underground railroad to free thinking, that gets passed between classes and exchanged in the back of your crappy car when you and your buds just shut up and listen to cool music. Now it's on an ipod, for me it was a mix tape, but it's all the same thing: deciding what kind of grown up you want to be, what kind of choices you want to make when you go searching for Oz.
Anyway, my editor at the LA Weekly did an amazing interview with Men. click here to read it

Next Month

My essay Appropriate For Destruction. November 9th it hits the stores nationwide.
Woo hooo!
Also featured, the brilliant Jessica Hopper, the wise Randall Roberts, the lovely Daphne Carr as always and guest edited by the wonderful Ann Powers.

Man of The Year

The Specials? Of course, Madness? You know, The English Beat, Sure why not. The Selecter, YES PLEASE! Why doesn't the world worship Pauline Black?


Meanwhile...
It has been decided.



Click here and here and here for costumes of Christmas past.

In The Garden

All I want to do is be the gardener at the Norton Simon museum and come out with a little craftsman desk and an old ink blotter and my mac book and some jam and toast and ruffles and onion dip and type away after all the guests have gone home and make the sunset last five hours caught between that amazing moment before the sky turns black. When it's neon, like this:

This is the garden.


This the desk I want.

I've been picking figs from my yard and doing yoga and hiking and all sorts of good things to counteract my fiscal irresponsibility and lack of money making job. I made an amazing fig pie with the figs from the yard, some strawberries from the farmers market and lemon zest custard with lemons, also from the yard. I covered it with homemade carmel sauce, recipe off the internet. I was very proud of this pie and wanted video documentation of it's creation. I asked Nick to film me for a bit to show off the vibrant colors of the the figs but it quickly turned into this:
amazing fucked up thing click to see
Anyway, I wanted it to be in color but then Nick did this:

Needless to say it's not what I wanted.
But no matter what, none of this is what I want. I'm like a junkie coming off of some strong shit. I itch and scratch and think I know what I want, know what will make me feel better but it never does. I'm seconds away from vomiting red spew all over the bed like Christiane F- google if you don't know what that means- because I am quickly becoming bored of this healthy seditary lifestyle that involves exercise and fresh veggies. I mean, not really, I like exercise and veggies but I really haven't gone out and partied all summer and now it's over and I feel like it's slipped between my fingers. I mean, if you look at my blog from last year at this time, all I did was go out. In fact most of my youngish life I've gone out pretty routinely. I was talking to Swang and I got all morose over the fact that she's been to tons of parties and hung out and danced and lived it up. I've been a bump on a stump. I know part of it is money- as in I don't have any- but still, its never stopped me before. So I'm going to make a more concentrated effort to get out.
Speaking of, I went to high school with this guys and we were actually pretty good friends. This is his band, I've never seen them live but based on this vid I will soon. They're amazing. I'm going to FYF this weekend. That should be fun.

Also, since were on the topic of bad cool things, a part of me always wants to live and look like this:



Dare I say the real Christiane was more beautiful than her film counterpart? Alas I am 30 and not 13. So you know, I'm in no real danger of becoming a teenage Hamburg heroin addict nymph. But I can still be a scary old meth head cat lady with too many books that smell old and musty! So you look out LA, I'm comin at you!