i'm forcing myself to post.

this is the most amazing lighter ever. they even had a selection of various MJ's to choose from--i'm a purist, so i chose a black MJ. it's extra ridiculous as it's one of those butane rocket lighters, not even a real zippo. Douchey.

RIP, my dancing friend.

no, really, i like it, but i'm trying to start a habit here, and it's hard when you don't feel you have much to say. i guess every entry doesn't have to be shakespeare. so i figured i'd share some pictures i've taken recently on the ol' iphone.

went to LA a couple weeks ago with a friend and stopped here--it was every purple, scarlet and black crushed velvet pentagram goddess crystal lovers emporium. D said she used to go to one of these (apparently it was a chain?) when she was in HS, and was psyched to see one in LA. so we miraculously found parking and stopped by.

i definitely love stores like this, but afterwards we joked that it should have been called "chalices R us". seriously. they even had cannabis-scented incense. who the fark buys that? isn't the whole reason you buy incense in the first place is to cover that smell up? i don't get it. they did have a pink flocked virgin mary statue bank (say that shit 10x fast!) that i desperately wanted. but not for $30. sorry psychic emporium.

i took this in the parking lot of target--i do enjoy the fact that you can get a few symbols on your license plate in addition to alphanumeric here. yes, i'm one of those people who love vanity plates--sue me. my first car (vintage, 3o yrs old!) was given to me by my parents and had a vanity plate on it with sentimental meaning. so i've kept it....for 13 years. until this year, when i had to give it up for the great state of cali-for-nigh-ay. *sigh* yes. i know. ridiculous. but i miss it. anyways. this is cute. if i'm here in a year, i'm going to suck it up and get new plates with my old phrase. HA.

yesterday was going to huntington beach with D.--apparently there was a tsunami warning--i'm a complete ass and was oblivious. whoops. several frantic texts later from a couple loved ones back in the land of corn, i realized why there were police cruisers and firetrucks parked all along the ocean side of PCH. again, whoops. megaphones and everything, telling people crossing the street to turn right back around. crazy. but this restaurant made me laugh out loud, both D. and i took a picture. INSERT SNICKERY MIDDLESCHOOL HUMOR HERE.


parked next to my car at lunch during the week. look at those badass tires. i fricking LOVE whitewall tires--i think they're so classy for some reason. and it's a harley. *romantic girly sigh here*. my mom has one... and always told me that you can "always trust someone with a harley."

and to end this ridiculousness, here is a pic of my new yellow wall, and me in a new shirtl. HUR. i found a reasonably-priced tripod (had to give old one back to dad when i moved--thanks dad!!) and have been going full retard with pictures. tripod plus remote-shutter release=WIN.

happy sunday. yo.

seventh circle of hell = CA DMV

when moving anywhere new, on the list of tasks one must accomplish is eventually sucking it up and registering your car, getting a new ID, and in short becoming an Official Resident of New Place. two things in life i hate most are waiting in lines and government-run agencies, so naturally i put this task off until the very last minute. thanks to california's ridiculous fee structure and residency periods, it had to be done THIS FRIDAY OR ELSE.

so i found the place, and went in. well, more like got in line, at 8am. i was approx. #25 out of 35 and my dreams of a short, painless visit were quickly crushed.

this was in the first line i got into. look at this fucking douchebag.

your tattoo looks like a frathouse dare gone wrong, sir. and wearing your keys around your neck on a lanyard is only acceptable at the gym or during your duties as lifeguard, neither of which apply as you are at the FUCKING DEPARTMENT OF MOTOR VEHICLES.

so to make a long story short, my 3.5 hour wait included waiting in 4 different lines, one application screw-up and redo on their part, a guidette screaming at an apathetic employee, watching a 16 year old girl fail her driving test, and what i thought was going to be a horrible picture on a license i'd have to wait 2-3 weeks to receive.

(yeah yeah, i know, who cares about a picture. but after that ordeal, receiving a license where i resemble a hungover prostitute would just be icing on the fucking cake.)

but no, i was pleasantly surprised at how decent the picture is. here's my old and new for comparison--mustaches courtesy of my mad photoshop skillz.

i swear they airbrushed tanned my face. i'm usually cracker-white but i look like a regular sunbunny here. thanks, california DMV!

as a plus, i noticed i've been carded more for buying cigarettes and booze. or maybe i'm just buying more cigarettes and booze. i don't know whether to be flattered or depressed. *sad trombone* haha!

on the subject of automobile california fuckery, here's a frightening sight from the california highway:

yes, this is a shitty photo, it was the best i could get as i was trying to rapidly get away from this impending disaster.

for those of you who can't tell, this is a moving truck with some sort of subaru SUV *in the back, unsecured*, towing another pickup truck that is full to the brim with random shit. traveling at 70mph at night. isn't this illegal somehow? are they running from the feds? IS THAT PICKUP TRUCK FULL OF COCAINE?!??!! how did any of this seem like a good idea?

dear california, thanks for the awesome drivers license picture. now do something about the above. thanks.

influx of the dreaded black jogging outfit

what it's like here:

this has been a rather lazy saturday afternoon, filled with donut-fetching, coffee, banks, aimlessly driving around listening to the white stripes, and enjoying the sun. i remarked to someone recently that it feels like i'm losing track of the seasons--i don't think it's really sunk in yet that this is february.

but my midwestern cohorts are keeping me apprised of snowpacalypse 2010: so far the count is 24 inches of snow, bringing 2 hopelessly stuck cars, a sheared-off drivers side mirror, and icicles in gutters that could be used as deadly weapons.

what it's like there:

i don't miss this shit.

being in magical sunny fucking fairyland while the rest of my friends are struggling to excavate their cars everyday (let alone keep from falling on their asses) makes me a firm believer that adverse weather/climate creates camraderie among people. no, i'm not high. but having to deal with the ridiculousness of awful weather brings people together because *everyone* has to constantly deal with it. your car stuck in your driveway? someone will stop, pull out whatever traction they might have in their trunk, and help you shlep your car out. people are in general more hospitable towards one another, and the first day of warm, luscious 50 degree weather after weeks of sub-zero temps puts *everyone* in a great fucking mood.

on the other hand, when you live somewhere where it's beautiful, warm and sunny all the time, there's no change, nothing to subtly bring people together. there's no reason for people to think about others, which can manifest itself in extremely douchey ways.

speaking of douchey things, i must have missed the memo about wearing your black tracksuit today. i can only conclude that there must have been a ridiculous sale on them; because by Jebus every fucking soccer-mom housewife was sporting one today, everywhere i went. aren't they supposed to be out of fashion by *now*???

*sigh*

MEMO: seriously ladies, unless you're actually working out, go put on some real fucking pants. i managed to find a pair of jeans that weren't too dirty today, i'm sure you can do the same. and NO, getting starbucks doesn't count as exercise.

there, rant over.

dear california,you get +1 for weather... and -1 for not knowing what real clothing is.

an artful depiction of giraffe coitus

..that can only be found at the pasadena rose bowl flea market. these pictures are about a month old, but look at all the crazy shit you can find! and they give back change in $2 bills, which for some reason i find fucking awesome.

a taxidermied fox with a taxidermied pheasant in its mouth? it's a sandwich of stuffed dead animal fun.

"Beetles." Ha! Almost bought it.

rich got to this before me, otherwise this badboy would have been MINE.



utterly creeptastic!!

and oh yes, giraffe coitus. wouldn't this look lovely on your mantle?

(this was at one of those booths i feel like i see at every craft show and flea market--the "Booth of Supposedly African Objects Staffed By A Real African Person Wearing Requisite African OilCloth Clothing". i think he wanted a dollar for this picture, but i pretended not to hear. a dollar? are you kidding me? you're actually wanting to exchange good money for a fricking statue of GIRAFFES HUMPING that was probably made in china. don't talk to me about business, sir)

dear california---+1 for an amazing array of awesome crap.

a documentary for my own amusement

*sigh*

so i started this blog, with the intent of hopefully documenting my move here. oh yeah, i moved here from the heart of the midwest, to southern flipping california. culture shock, ja? JA!

it's basically a magical fucking fairy land compared to where i'm from. not that where i'm from was bad, mind you, not at all. i miss it. it has snow. lots of it right now in fact. but i can't deny that living here is like a whole other country so far.

so far i'm having fun trying to capture the pretty, the ridiculous, and the pretty ridiculous shit around me.

so, to explain this picture--this was in december, and to my knowledge still has not yet been sold. i can't imagine why. a pink ed hardy brand hookah? really? REALLY?

who the fuck uses this and doesn't expect to get the shit beat out of them?

pink lucite? come aahhhhnn.

dear california, why do you allow shit like this to exist?