Tranny

Bored bored bored bored bored nothing opens until 11:00 bored bored bored bored bored I took sleep aids last night and was in bed by 10:20 because I was so bored bored bored bored bored I just found a random piece of gum on the coffee table and am chewing it and it's good and I'm wondering what kind it is bored bored bored bored bored my boyfriend was up until 6:30 this morning and is not going to get any sleep and will be a mess when he finally decides to get out of bed leaving me all the more bored bored bored bored bored I don't have a Halloween costume and miss Value Village bored bored bored bored bored I can't go for a run because I have bad blisters that never heal because I get so bored bored bored bored bored

"There are villains all over this city"

My boyfriend just asked me what it feels like to be a blogger with the swine flu.

He's currently playing Halo: ODST and explaining his strategy to me as he goes. He already beat Halo: ODST and is playing it again. On the hardest level.

I stopped by his work today and he had a dixie cup sized espresso with two scoops of sugar in it. I queried as to whether he wanted any beverage with his sugar.

I always find his socks in and around the couch. The ultimate expression of relaxation after a long day of work.

He was painting last night while we were watching a Bergman film. I got cranky and decided I had to go to bed. He wanted me to hang out with him while he painted and asked if I'd sleep on the couch.

On our walk to rent a movie he was picking my metaphorical ass and I told him I was going to walk in the street so he couldn't touch me. He told me I was going to get hit by a car. I told him he'd feel guilty. He said he wouldn't and that I'd feel stupid for getting hit.

He told me I'm like Laurel and Hardy, except the female version and all rolled into one.

Wilshire Blvd

I blew through a red light. Even before I had entered the intersection, I made the conscious decision that I was going to run the light. The worst part, is that it wasn't even yellow turning red, it was straight up red. And it was nighttime. And I cut a car off in order to do it.

I felt a sudden surge of energy pulse through my body. I think it was the chemical release of stupidity mixed with luck. I wasn't in a rush. I didn't have anyone chasing me. I didn't even have rowdy music blasting. So why did I feel the need to put not only my life, but the lives of others in jeopardy? It's one of those embarrassing moments when you step outside of yourself and you think,

What the fuck did I do that for?

It reminded me of when I used to party a lot. We'd go out, get wasted, do drugs, then roam the neighbourhood being pointless and destructive. People would drop like flies in one alley or another, a stranger would try and lure one of us into their car, some random dude would promise he had a ton of drugs back at his apartment. No matter what, we'd all laugh and think we were the raddest shit to hit the Earth. The next morning we'd wake up and slink on with our day. None of us ever being 100% sure what had happened the night before, but all of us being thankful we'd made it through.

I kind of look at life that way now. I'm not sure why I'm making it through, but I'm smart enough to realize how truly fortunate I am.

Adjustment

A Planter's Peanut, dressed up as Robert Plant.

Bear

Halloween is my ultimate fave time of year. I like Christmas because people feel like they have to be nice and after forcing themselves to behave a certain way they usually fall into line and realize it's nice to be nice, but over all it's a lot of build up and stress for one day.

Halloween isn't like that. (Unless you get all hyped when everyone says they'll dress up and then they all bail at the last minute leaving you a sobbing mess of flesh... but I got over that. I'm my own dude.) Halloween is a nationally recognized excuse to dress like absolutely anything you want while parading around in the dark. And you get to carve pumpkins and hand out/receive candy. Am I missing something? How has everyone not caught onto the brilliance? How can anyone possibly think this sounds like a chore!?

I was a little sad because I thought I wouldn't have anything to get out to this year, but am pleased to announce, I have plans! Brad and I are going to a halloween party. A real Halloween party, with decorations and costumes! I also get to host a pumpkin carving night like I like to do. This shit's shaping up, kids! AND I decorated our apartment real spooky like! Our mantle looks fanfreakintastic!

Once again, in typical Marcie fashion, I've been pondering costumes all year, but can't remember any of them. Except the fallback plan of Robert Plant, but I think that's just too easy and not nearly witty enough. Maybe I could go as Robert Planter? Robert with a planter's wart? Or Robert Planters Peanut? The top half of Robert with the bottom half of a peanut? Hmm... that just might work.

This post is pretty pointless and it was all just a way to show you another picture from the MOCA. It was the one thing Brad and I thought was mind meltingly cool. It might also be the inspiration to his costume. I want him to dress up as it, just in case someone saw the exhibit. I want someone to walk up and say:

Contemporary art, huh? Very cool!

"And that brings us to our next piece entitled, Condensation Cube."

When I was nineteen or so, I was introduced to Robert Frank's photography. I'd never seen anything like it, because I lived under a rock, and immediately fell under his spell. In typical Marcie fashion this meant I would do absolutely nothing about it aside from thinking of him from time to time for the next nine years. (Brad and I have a running joke about who my celebrity crush is. I pick a new one every time I see a movie I like because I can't remember who my last one was. This sums up my life. I can't remember what I like unless I'm reminded.)

Lucky for me, someone not only reminded me of Robert Frank's existence, but told me he currently has an exhibit at the MOCA. Well. Hot damn! I've always wanted to see an exhibit of his!

Brad and I went on Saturday. It was lovely to see his work and I was a happy camper that we went, instead of adding it to the list of things I spaced out on until it was too late. Now. As for the rest of the museum.

MOCA. Museum of CONTEMPORARY Art.

A common concern since the early part of the 20th century is the question of what constitutes art. This concern can be seen running through the "modern" and "postmodern" periods. The concept of avant-garde^[11] may come into play in determining what art is taken notice of by galleries, museums, and collectors. Serious art is ultimately exceedingly difficult to distinguish definitively from art that falls short of that designation.

Cough.

I may not be no educated art gal, but to me, there are two very distinct types of art. The type I can only dream of achieving and the type I could achieve. The latter, in my mind, not being art. This may sound harsh and everybody has a different way of expressing themselves and their vision and blah blah blah blah, but seriously. Don't put a tampon in a tea cup and put it in a museum.

Being in the MOCA was like being in a movie. A horror/comedy. A horredy. I was walking around in a daze. Blown away by what I was seeing and hearing, unsure if I was supposed to scream in terror or bust a nut laughing. My face was stuck somewhere in the middle the whole time. Eyebrows furrowed, mouth in a smirk, nose twisted, head tilted.

Long winded story short, I took the liberty of snapping a few photos, so I could share my confusion.

Troop Beverly Hills

I've fallen in love, thy name is Zombieland. Whenever I feel a breeze gently kissing my neck, I'll think of you. Whenever I smell freshly baked cookies, I'll think of you. Whenever I pick a scab and blood flows, I'll think of you. Whenever I see a motorcycle in a bush, I'll laugh my ass off and think of you.

Couple's Retreat on the other hand, I'd be pleased to burn you from my memory.