slow motion aftertaste

* * *

2005-10-26T05:16:58Z

today at our casting session for anna's film, a very sultry and very thin woman named irena auditioned for us. she was miss romania and miss black sea and a finalist for miss europe. we just might cast her. i think that's an end-all to end all end-alls.

i'm giving this shindig up. it's time for changes! i'm all twenty, and going to paris in the spring and shit. goodbye, livejournal of two years and two months. i think this is a good pictorial summary of it all:

p.s. drop me a line sometime.

birthday party pictures

2005-10-23T07:31:45Z

in celebration of my twentieth, i spent most of the night asleep in a room or on the floor. but only because it was a little too fun towards the beginning [1990s dance party!].

paul, pre-festivities.

anna's rowdy cousins. :)

jessica inundated by the men.

cliff and ben in interesting composition.

the cake!

holly and the ever-so-vivacious mikhaila.

aww, the freshman trio.

yay, extreme farmers tan action going on there.

paul admires my excellent cutting job.

...what?!

dan and jacki.

it was at this point that i stumbled away...

monika!

back porch hubbub.

hubbub part 2.

sober julie and not-sober jessica.

chris and micheeeelllleee!

helen, emily and cliff!

emerged from the bedroom for a few seconds, too much commotion and bright lights for me to handle, as evidenced by this photo with vicky (who looks super cute).

a little quieter...

to end on a positive note: rawr!

the links are fixed now!

thom yorke wisdom

2005-10-22T16:58:29Z

you do it to yourself, you do, and that's what really hurts.

i'm having a pleasant time, minus certain 5 a.m. bumblings and this gross burrito to cure my hangover. just when things threaten to become stifling, a change looms in the near future: i'm studying abroad in paris next semester!

tuesday night tomatoes

2005-10-19T05:14:06Z

homonym for tara reid: terre aride a.k.a. "barren land."

that reality show of hers makes you kind of whistle at how one person can maintain such a constant level of drunkenness.

>:o

2005-10-17T19:17:21Z

i hate it when random people become indignant at misdialing me for someone else. they're always like, "who are you??" in such an accusatory tone.

and i want to say, "i'm mike. this is my cellphone. not norm's, not jeffrey's, not mike miyoshi, not the grocery store. fuck you!!!" the other day i talked to someone for several minutes, who would not believe that the phone was mine and i must have pilfered it from jeffrey and disposed of him somehow.

maybe i'm on that show with the puppets, crank yankers. bastards.

qui sait qu'est-ce qui se passera?

2005-10-17T07:29:17Z

last night, i sustained a totally normal conversation with a stranger while we were the only two jumping around in the super bouncy carnival thing someone had rented for a birthday party, the beer still swishing in our stomachs.

rain, rain, a catharsis sweeping through the city after so much anticipatory tension. i almost don't know what to do with myself except gulp down more miso soup.

chinese cinema 101

2005-10-14T06:15:25Z

purple butterfly [zi hudie] - dir. lou ye, 2003

zhang ziyi stars in this gritty drama about a taboo japanese-chinese couple around the time of world war ii. after their separation as lovers, they resurface in shanghai pitted against each other in a cat & mouse game of intelligence operatives and assassination plots. the camera work is frenetic, kicking in and out of focus with the characters which gets distracting at most. the narrative is pretty choppy with a predilection for cycling back to past events, playing on the viewer's sense of time and space. a tricky gamble to say the least, not to mention i got mildly annoyed by the overabundant close-ups of zhang ziyi bawling for no reason.

the climax of the film, however, is an amazing looong take and the subsequent non-continuous scene is drawn out but quite powerful. period music from the 1930s is an excellent complement to the dark palette. the film ends on a montage of real war footage of bombs dropping over shanghai, massacres at nanjing, and other unfortunate events.

great idea but could have been refined a lot more. still worth watching in my book, though, since it keeps you thinking afterwards trying to decipher the true order of events.

rating: 7 / 10

temptress moon [feng yue] - dir. chen kaige, 1996

oh my god, a totally underappreciated gem. christopher doyle does absolutely beautiful cinematography with this, giving the whole film a really unique style of soft focus, warm colors, and emotionally charged light. leslie cheung plays a brash, conniving young playboy who makes a living off of blackmailing married women. gong li is the matriarch of an aristocratic 1920s household of opium addicts and other generic crazies.

the collision of their two worlds unfolds slowly, deliberately, but there are some quite delicious moments when the shit really goes down. a poignant and well-acted tragedy that gleefully unearths the darker underbelly of chinese society with all its drug addicts, scheming mobsters, and disturbing incest themes.

the melodrama never gets too out of hand, and there's a really good surreal sex scene too. the city is depicted in a romantic but depraved light. the small handful of main cast members are fleshed out so nicely, you don't know who to feel more sorry for.

suffice to say, it had me from its opening shot of a young girl, standing in gross yellow light, hearing an off-screen voice say, "what is opium, ruyi my daughter? opium is the source of all inspiration." she's envelopped in a cloud of exhaled smoke, to which she breathes in and smiles. how fucking sinister! no wonder this shit was banned in china.

rating: 9 / 10

paper cartons

2005-10-11T05:44:12Z

urban panorama on the seventh floor,
high as a kite leaning over the cement ledge.
mid-afternoon sunshine bathes us
in a lazy traipse through campus
to find flowers for that
empty tequila bottle.

how beautiful these days are
and how fondly i'll remember them.

dalliant and dainty

2005-10-06T07:33:57Z

before leaving for school each day, i've been eating a reese's cup. depart around 8:30 a.m. pull myself through that pleasantly predictable melange of class walk class walk bank errand editing class habitat walk editing car jacket habitat class editing, and finally plop home by midnight.

today, there was a piece of paper stapled to the bulletin board at the fourth floor of the parking structure that said simply: "you are loved."

time to kill time

2005-10-04T06:08:25Z

ten years ago: i was in fifth grade and we still lived in maryland, where the snowy season was always fun without the excessiveness of ohio winters. we lived in a very friendly neighborhood and the rest of the kids and i would all gather to play video games, go sledding in the local forest until our hands and feet were frozen, and warm up said hands and feet against the central heating vents. my best friends were andrew and hamp, i still took private violin lessons regularly and played in the county orchestras, and spent a lot of time bikeriding all over the damn place. also, 1995 was the year that we got the undeniably crappy packard bell computer, the internet (my first screennames were all x-men related), and the tan mazda 626 that would later be christened the "golden lamb" under my ownership.

seven years ago: i was the most bitter thirteen-year-old there ever was known to man. still adjusting to the suffocating homogeneousness of ohio, withdrawn more and more from family because of awkward growing pain issues, making friends with people but still pretty much a loner. i spent most of my time watching tv (those abc sitcom marathons), playing mah-jongg with my grandparents during the weekends, and bleeding my heart out all over the journals i kept from seventh to ninth grade. i was also really into no doubt.

five years ago: around the time my father contemplated moving us to santa barbara. i really didn't want to have to start over again in the middle of high school, and the social situation seemed to be improving. tenth grade was a good and bad year. also full of those really angsty dramas that one can only produce at age fifteen. i ran for class president to spite everyone. i worked at a haunted house and became close friends with cathy, mary grace, and tammi. "going out" meant to the mall. i held onto an unfortunate friendship via internet that turned out driving me crazy. i was into beck, but started really getting into tool, sunny day real estate, operation ivy, and a smorgasbord of underground.

three years ago: senior year of high school, still quite a lackadaisical president. i went through phases of different lengths and colors of hair, mostly influenced by the cathy troupe of friends. we'd go to shows pretty often in cleveland (of the embarrassingly hard variety, mosh pits included) and sit around at denny's all the damn time or frequent the mall (still... sigh). i had a part-time job at the dollar tree, one of the most bizarre year-and-a-half experiences of my life. i started applying to schools, set on the idea of new york and specifically early decision columbia after a college tour. serendipity landed me in l.a. and i have to say i'm more pleased than i could have imagined. i was on homecoming court and prom court that year [sorry!! self-promotion moment] and to be honest, i was really fucking content with myself for making it so far socially because hey, asian kids in ohio were almost always shuffled off to riffraff and/or sneers from dumb white guys. i felt like some rags to riches memoir-type story of coming of age, i resolved to move to california after the outside locks on my car froze solid when i was trying to go to work, and i took pictures like this:

one year ago: i was interning at the film festival channel downtown, fatigued by never sleeping and general ed courses in chemistry, physics, AND chinese literature. spent a lot of time driving to and back from west l.a. and orange county for alex, developed the habit of smoking pot regularly, and went to vegas with my family for thanksgiving.

one day ago: i went to the beverly center with caity and jessica (guilty indeed). we ate at p.f. chang's after circulating among all the girly stores, much to my chagrin, and then i worked an awful six to midnight shift at the editing labs. also, i bleached my hair when i got home and half of it is bright bright blonde. who'd have thunk?

five favorite snacks: those snapeas from trader joe's, walnut with honey, peanuts and cashews, baby tomatoes, bread and marmalade!

five million dollars?: a third to my parents and extended family to pay for my tuition, my sister's tuition, modern comforts and some stock market funds (my parents are obsessed). a third to various charities. a third for a small but nicely decorated loft somewhere in los angeles, and money to travel on a whim and feed an independent production. fuck, maybe all of it should go towards a production... but, nah.

five places to escape to: paris, shanghai, new york, hong kong, copenhagen

five things i would not wear: tech vests, anything grossly flamboyant (mildly flamboyant could be okay), trendy sport shoes with micro-chips... i don't know. i kind of let myself go sometimes with fashion.

five greatest joys: drunk subway, naps, a well-crafted film, sincerity, drinks and smokes with friends

five greatest toys: ipod, digital camera [still need a replacement], a laptop [dreeeam], a nice videocamera, a boyfriend

love is lighter than air

2005-10-02T08:55:56Z

i've buffered myself
with too many dizzy-headed cigarettes
and droll
foibles
over and over again
gilded by slack-jawed
indifference

but at least we're done shooting. and i'm still working. and looking forward to an interview that'll hopefully plop me into europe for a semester to escape the drudgery of film school.

deception

2005-09-28T07:27:13Z

in the year and a half that i've lived in this apartment, i've discovered many routes of commuting back and forth between school, such as:

1. the 101 to the 110 to exposition
2. the 101 to alvarado to hoover
3. virgil to wilshire to hoover
4. beverly to vermont to jefferson

and although #3 is a shorter distance in mileage than #4, the latter is always quicker because driving down that stretch of vermont avenue, something about the space between intersections is evenly measured in synchronicity. you'll hit at most, two or three traffic lights down a four mile stretch, cruising through the empty night with neon signs lit up every which way so glaringly, it's almost depraved.

but what was i saying? yeah, that synchronicity. it's almost reassuring. that the world is peppered with patterns. that nothing ever happens without reason. that everything is the way it's meant to be.

aquellos ojos verdes

2005-09-24T17:13:16Z

i had a dream that we were in another one of those claustrophobic places beset by social liaisons. everyone skirted around each other with ease, like clockwork, laughing and smiling and talking and touching. and i fell asleep alone on a bed in the farthest corner. and had a dream that i was walking down the familiar alleyway between the shrine and the parking lot, in the timeless glow of orange from the street lights.

at the corner i stopped, looked both ways. wrote down these addresses in case i forget them in some distant future. 701 w. 32nd st., 3131 s. figueroa. on the ground next to me lay a vagrant, pale as a saucer of milk, smiling terribly. i dashed away from him as fast as i could, knowing that i was being followed by others, these women who glided effortlessly on my trail speaking in bizarre tongues, eyes full of malice.

as much as i tried losing them down the neon boulevard of store fronts and craggy-faced old men, they chased me relentlessly until i was cornered in the basement of a book store. cold, slender fingers, black hair and cherry lips.

then i woke in my solitude and quietness. i called for everyone else, finding out that they had fallen asleep in a communal bundle, huddled for warmth and brotherhood. "let's go now," i blared drunkenly, fresh from nightmares. "or we might never leave."

we flew on the freeway as day appeared, wary of our bodies, of the millions of other cars swarming like insects, numbers and symbols appearing through the haze that meant nothing at all. crepuscule.

i.

2005-09-24T08:27:09Z

Carmelita discovered that the most intimate moment rendered to humankind was dying with someone. In final, staggering breaths, the euphoria of knowing another living thing was being extinguished so close, so beautifully concrete - the very thought was beyond any orgasm she had ever known.

She quivered, unsure if it was from her injuries or the cold delight that washed over her upon the revelation of mortality. The man next to her was still wheezing. They had met only a half hour ago, and now they shared the most furtive and irretrievable of human experiences. Blood from his nose dribbled down onto his collar. Another wheeze splattered flowered patterns of red onto Carmelita's blouse, which had just been starched and bleached to perfection a few days ago.

Through the haze of firing synapses and failing intellect, she fled away from the conflagratory wreckage of the present, fled away from her crippled vessel and death-drunk delirium, fled, as lithe as a fox over snow, to 1973 and a stony beach front on the southwestern coast of Spain.

crimson and clover

2005-09-19T01:45:24Z

life's been moving at a frenetic pace again. on weekends, i spend the days with anna working on our production. lots of loading and unloading, lighting setups, bothersome logistics, and craft fucking services. it's amazing to be able to shoot on color 16mm though, and exciting (if nerve-wracking and soulsucking) to see the story come together. the artistic diaspora from summertime script fragments.

at night, despite ALWAYS having early obligations the following day, we feel justified in going out. i find myself in a social swarm drinking the classiest vodka/pink lemonade/monster energy drink mix, from a big tub, no less. developing a taste (unfortunately) for cigarettes, giddy stupor, and abrupt makeshift sleeping spaces on carpet.

i've lost track of how many times i've woken up at habitat soo zee, infantile, like a newborn stretching my limbs for the first time in a gray slate of a dawn. alcohol makes me narcoleptic. yet there's something clean about the feeling, this nocturnal amnesia that flows readily through my veins and starts afresh the next cycle.

no matter how tired or hungover or cranky i am, i can't help but love the tangerine sunsets. everything glows, everything is beautiful, from styrofoam puffs of clouds to banners flapping from rusted poles in koreatown. the days go too quickly.

p.s. sorry about the sink.

a bit o' democracy

2005-09-13T06:18:20Z

california governor schwarzenegger's office is accepting calls from anywhere regarding their marriage equality bill. it passed both houses of their legislature, but needs the governor's approval. it's all automated, so you don't have to talk to anyone.

follow these directions:
1. call the governor: 916.445.2841 (this number is listed at www.governor.ca.gov)
2. push: 2 - voice your opinion on legislation - you don't actually have to voice your opinion, this is just what the automated recording says.
3. push: 1 - gender-neutral marriage bill - senate bill 849
4. push: 1 - to support marriage equality

pass it on.

endangered; one big fucking anticlimax

2005-09-12T03:57:47Z

june 25, 2005

just woke up from a fantastic nap dream where my sister taught me how to fly.

with her child's grin and charm, we were at a camp-like place somewhere out in china stepping through dark and quiet buddhist temples with my parents.

i was in the military (which resembled the zemeckis center somehow), going into my second year, relating past tales to my parents and preparing myself to avoid the treachery of sudden death. by bows and arrows and the like.

my sister, little ellen, defied the laws of gravity in a tethered suit of four strips of faux-fur in shiny green and brown. mermaid-like, they wrapped around one's waist and in the right frame of mind, probably zen-like i'm sure, one could float away into the powdery blue sky.

i managed to unlock the secret of the device and explained it while we were leaving. my sister told everyone not to forget her in the future. a girl i was talking to before was blissfully unchained in the skysuit.

she came down with tears in her eyes, thanking me. "it's so true, all of it. all of what you'd said."

june 19, 2005

lazy dog sunlight slants
on my tired forehead,
no less agile than
half a revolution of the
globe
ago.

back then i was falling
into the pavement,
clutching the last of my
dignity
away from voices slurred
and bodies freed
by alcohol,
lamenting all of existence.

fuck, i thought as
clear liquid
fountained
from my throat
still warm from the inner sanctum
of my belly.

fuck, the world is a farce.
two years embedded into
the city,
two years of fingernails
lost in garbage,
singular hairs casually
serenading a descent to
los angeles floors.

i want to devour everything
in my path
like a great chasm
snaking like a faultline
from washington to beijing,
emptying whole oceans and
continents
to the pit of my
halcyon heart.

maybe then i'd be able
to reconcile things.
and exist in equilibrium,
my lovers would surround
me as plumes of smoke,
beautiful faces shining
with that knowing
look
in their eyes.

interrompu

2005-09-10T10:49:39Z

ON ME DIT QUE JE SUIS PARESSEUX.
QUE JE NE FAIT QUE CE QUE JE VEUX.

i hate and become the perpetually surly

2005-09-06T23:01:23Z

two words: fuck. permits.

my just-begun blacklist
receptionist at EIDC
receptionist at Park Film Office

surely more to come...

in other news:

laborious

2005-09-05T23:04:35Z

mirrors are finicky creatures.

it's funny how self-perception changes depending on your looking glass of choice. at home and in familiar environments, the light always seems soft, rendering one's reflection attractive. it's almost a validation, like oh yeah, that's me.

then it always seems like they attune to your presence. when one feels unwieldy, uncomfortable, looking into that mirror beneath harsh naked bulbs that inevitably increase the room temperature, all the defects seem to show. skin seems craggy, ugly, features misproportioned. then you're like, where the fuck am i? who is that?

maybe we should all hire people to carry around large pieces of styrofoam to bounce light off for that oh-so-nice shadow fill.

coping mechanisms

2005-08-31T06:37:22Z

whenever i get a little stressed out or depressed, i cut my hair. is this some kind of emotional inverse-samson complex? someone please tell me.

throat burn

2005-08-28T10:26:47Z

The moon a cheshire cat smile in the sky, I tumble home after what seems like an extraordinarily long day. I went to Julie's in the early afternoon to cure this hangover with green tea and reading: Maupassant's Bel-Ami for class on Monday. Somehow we've forged a transition back into the typical student's circadian rhythm in this past week. This includes waking up to an alarm again, going through three-hour bouts of getting talked at, actually doing schoolwork, and allotting enough time for a proper social life.

So far so good. Sunset Junction was amazing as always, with our nine-person entourage, despite having painful feet. It's just such a great microcosm of the east side and all the things the city has to offer. Beyond that, uhhh, we spent the rest of the night drinking "hella foamy beer" and eating snapeas.

Casting next weekend!

whistle huggy huggy

2005-08-27T17:29:59Z

somehow i've reverted to being that guy, you know, who falls asleep on the yellow armchair in the midst of the party after expending all energy on happy greetings and circular conversation [and...dancing?]. and then waking up hours later to morning, throbbing headache. driving desperately home to puke in a bush, leave keys on the kitchen floor, rush to the security of one's own bed. and wonder why my right foot kind of hurts. i vaguely remember a heel crunching into it, perhaps laura cray's.

mostly though, fun times. happy birthday jessica. the non-memory of my first blackouts is under your name.

seeing everyone together filled me with such joy, i apologize if the chatting (palaver?) was too muddled. i have no idea what i was talking about.

nettles make me think of happy times

2005-08-24T06:35:50Z

the world is so amazing: swaziland girls celebrate end of sex ban

and right on jessica's birthday too! ;)

wha

2005-08-22T08:55:42Z

have a pleasant day. a random myspace message:

hello
i am linda form USA last year i lost my both perent so life have beenbad ofr me since then.. so one day i saw an advert on internet and ti was in nigeria so i follow it up not knowing that nigerians are seamers so i went to there went all i have and they doupe me went all my money ...
so i cant go back to my USA..so i need just 10,000$ to go back . i we be very delighted if you can help me

thanks LINDA JUDE

* * *

what the fuck, woman. do i look like your wealthy benefactor?