Montezuma's Revenge

Diva Las Vegas

2009-04-07T09:13:00.000-07:00

"What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas" -- an adage that's often repeated (if not lived by). This past weekend, I was actually able to abide by it (despite this, um, public blog post...). Anyway, after months of organizing and outfits planned, my friends and I made the long awaited trip to Las Gaygas where we prepared for the worst... and anticipated the crazy. I can easily relay tid-bits of the entire weekend in a mere paragraph slump, but that's so unlike me. Let's break it down:

TIMELINE

Friday, April 3rd: 1:34 p.m. - The Car Ride.

And it wasn't your typical car ride. It was your Popstar intensified car ride. With tunes from Lady Gaga, Britney Spears, and Hilary Duff intermixed with lollipops and teen pop magazines, what more can a boy ask for?

3:23 p.m. - The Gas Station.

When you're with friends, why make a typical gas stop boring? We transformed the station into a Top Model photo shoot. "Two girls stand before me, only one can stay...". Suffice to say, it was a blast.

5:21 p.m. - The Near Death Experience.

Just about two hours later, a vehicle drives beside us, rolls down their window and frantically points to the hood of the car. Paolo dismisses them politely and we continue driving. Well, it turns out we'd been driving with the hood still open - flapping around just waiting to fly open. Incidentally, Paolo knew about it the entire time!

5:25 p.m. - The Pee Break.

So after pulling over and securing the hood, it was time for the obligatory pee break. The only problem... we were in the middle of nowhere. Hey, when you gotta go, you gotta go...

6:30 p.m. - The Hotel.

Ironically, we departed from the city Hollywood only to stay in the hotel Planet Hollywood. While we could have stayed in any ole' actor's room (Darryl Hannah anyone?), we were able to stay in a Michelle Pfeiffer decorated room. Catwoman over the bathtub? ... um, meow.

7:25 p.m. - The Strip.

And no, I'm not talking about taking off my clothes! It was time to take the city by storm... literally. We refueled with pizza adjacent to an indoor rainstorm. Only in Las Vegas would you be treated to a slice of cheese with a side of rainfall.

11:00 p.m. - The Gay Bar

After a few hours of gambling (and losing), we decided to make our way to the trashy gay bars of Vegas. And trashy they were... Fortunately, we were treated to a nice cup of Hot Chocolate. (oh, by the way, Hot Chocolate's the name of the drag queen.)

2:30 a.m. - French Fries and Gambling.

While we know Vegas never sleeps, it's safe to say my friends sure do. After most of them dropped like flies, Jamison and I tried our luck for a few more hours. Jamison won! I did not.

April 4th, 2009: 12:30 p.m. - The Buffet.

When in Vegas, it's almost mandatory to dine at an all-you-can-eat buffet. And boy did we! After our fourth plate, it was unanimously decided we'd never go to a buffet again. Our thighs would eventually thank us for that promise. (And p.s... the plate to the right was the work of a Mr. Paolo. He and his sweet tooth makes Willy Wonka look like a diabetic.)

6:25 p.m. - The Divide.

After a much needed rest, it was time for an evening of shows. A third of the group went to see the divine Bette Midler, another third went to see Peepshow (starring Spice Girl Mel B), and the remaining peeps decided to show everyone that drinking margaritas and vodka at 7 o'clock was actually a good idea. (Oh yeah, that person was me...)

10:00 p.m. - The Last Night.

A math equation: Eight friends + alcohol + a gay bar x debauchery, a fist, a hand towel, and cement construction tubes = utter mayhem. Our last night consisted of a few memorable moments (and even more forgotten ones). However, after what seemed like Nevada's house of shame, I'd have to say the trip was an overall success!

4:20 a.m. - French Fries Part Deux.

Hey, it seemed only appropriate...

Having been an official college graduate for nearly two years now, I've encountered many different obstacles in my life. From unemployment to taxes, I've realized growing up isn't as glamorous as my delusional 19-year-old self envisioned. It's tough. It's exhausting. It's nothing like Friends makes it out to be. However, after actually experiencing the journey, I've realized there are only a few things I'm certain about in Los Angeles: Constant creativity, traffic jams, pollution, and the reliability and grandeur of my friends.

Though, not exactly in that order.

Comment vas-tu?

2009-03-18T15:22:00.000-07:00

There's something about the French language that's so hypnotizing. In fact, there's something about most foreign languages that pulls me in -- like a literary magnet, allowing me to observe a completely different culture. I've deigned to create a short film that's completely foreign to me (both literally and metaphorically). Why I've chosen to do this, I have no idea. However, the more I dive into this project, the more captivating the story becomes.

Human language is a tricky thing. Two people who don't necessarily share the same language can have a completely intimate interaction. A connection that's not formed through dialogue, but a human connection. That's beautiful to me. The words are important, yes. But what's really relevant is the relationship -- real and fascinating.

Je n'oublierai jamais les choses qui m'ont fait sourire autrefois.

Random Ramblings

2009-03-05T17:30:00.000-08:00

It almost shames me to admit that I've been an American Idol watcher for a whopping 8 years. That confession goes hand-in-hand with the fact that I'm an avid decoupage enthusiast, read PerezHilton.com daily, and actually enjoy dining at Chili's... (What? I like their chips and salsa...) Anyway, ever since Kelly Clarkson donned the Idol crown, I've dedicated my Prime Time life to that of Simon Cowell and the gang. I don't include Paula in the lineup since she's never entirely "there" either.

However, this season I've noticed that my AI obsession is dwindling and my attention span for reality shows equals that of the time it takes to drink a can of Diet Coke. Fortunately, I've gotten into the habit of DVR-ing the episodes and fast-forwarding through 80% of it. Wouldn't it be great if we had that luxury in life? Traffic jams and blind dates wouldn't stand a chance.

In fact, just this past week I went to a few networking mixers where I left the hoodie sweatshirt at home and packed the business cards in my back pocket. With any social situation, it's inevitable that we encounter people we'd happily DVR straight through. I met a few myself. (Side note: I'm convinced wine is the networking equivalent of DVR. Tune out. Get out.) Yet, this time I sailed on through -- swift and smiley. I think I enjoy interacting with actors the best. Little ego since we're on a different playing field (and I don't have to listen to the "film guy" drag on about the fact he's a tortured artist).

What was I talking about? Oh yeah, American Idol. This is definitely one of my periodic babble-blogs. I don't really have one coherent thought, but random ramblings that don't really make complete sense.

I'm drinking the Green Tea Frappacino from Starbucks. It's like crack.

EDIT: Another side note. My friend created this hilarious promo pic for our Vegas Vacation 2009. Just the gays and our favorite artist. Yes, that's Jennifer Hudson. More evidence that my past Idol obsession has become widespread...

Fate Stepped In

2009-02-26T13:08:00.000-08:00

It's a brand new day and the air has never been fuller. Circumstances have arisen that set a completely new cycle into motion. I won't bore anybody with the details, but it involves three things: More writing time. A new found energy. And a path that's inevitably better than yesterday's. (p.s. Who thought up the word "severance"? Or "sever" for that matter? The image of Jason Voorhees and a knife always comes to mind).

Anyway, I have a feeling that better opportunities are around the corner and my previous post concerning irrelevance is, well, irrelevant. It's time to put my metaphorical running shoes on, focus on my primary goal, and chase after my dreams.

I'll see you at the finish line.

SlumHOG Millionaire

2009-02-20T10:22:00.001-08:00

It's that magical time of year again. The red carpet's been rolled out and the statuettes have been shined. Oscar Sunday is this weekend and I must admit, my enthusiasm is rather lackluster. Sure, I'm looking forward to the fashion, speeches, and the months of speculation being put to rest. However, this awards season has been anything but exciting -- primarily due to a little/big film called Slumdog Millionaire.

Don't get me wrong, this film is one of my top favorites this year. However, it's hogging every precursor award thus far extinguishing any possible build-up or anticipation for this Sunday's telecast. Slumdog mania has taken over! In fact, just yesterday I was driving on the 405 freeway, minding my own business, and my iPod frequency was interrupted by another driver passerby. Guess what he was listening to? The Slumdog Millionaire soundtrack.

Instead of posting my predictions like every Joe Shmo out there, I'll wish upon my lucky stars for potential upsets including:

- Best Cinematography - Claudio Miranda (Benjamin Button)

- Best Original Screenplay - Mike Leigh (Happy-Go-Lucky)

- Best Actress - Anne Hathaway

- Best Picture - Milk

Hey, no guts, no glory. Right?

Self-DiagNonsense

2009-02-11T11:35:00.000-08:00

There's nothing like the seasonal slump. The sky seems foggier, the air seems more polluted, and the days drag on like a timeless universe. Or maybe it's just me. After a few weeks of dismal proportions and a conscious hiatus, I've decided to claw myself back into literary civilization. I must admit, it wasn't easy and it took almost every ounce of my effort, but I think I'm finally back. Well, for now at least.

However, this mental self-diagnosis didn't occur overnight. It took days of observation and countless hours of analysis to discover what was actually wrong with me. I'm at a stand-still. While I originally thought time was moving forward with me along for the ride, it seems time actually decided to leave me far behind. Waiting -- hoping -- needing some sort of change that will finally shake me from this common day monotony.

I know, I know. At twenty-four, I shouldn't expect much, if anything, to go exactly how I originally planned (especially in this industry, right?). However, it seems like the "routine" of my life has taken over any spontaneity and I feel trapped. Yes, trapped. I'm stuck in this dark corner where the realm of possibilities seem distant and the Groundhog Day effect seems inevitable.

Therefore, before I let this disorder get the best of me, I've decided to write myself my own prescription. A prescription that will allow me to break free from this entanglement and into something more fulfilling. A prescription that inspires instead of hinders. And finally, a prescription that involves some huge life changes (both professionally and personally) that will ultimately change me into the person I want to become.

I mean, I've come this far, right? What's another 50+ years?

I'm Puxatony ill...

2009-02-02T16:45:00.000-08:00

Each year, like clockwork, I unfortunately encounter an inevitable time of year - the seasonal slump. I reach a point in my life where my lack of motivation meets spontaneous self-loathing and I lock myself in this uncomfortable rut. It's my own equivalent to PMS... but with less tampons. Which, in due part, explains my lack of blog posts.

Therefore, it probably comes as no surprise that I've been lacking inspiration. Perhaps I'm verging on exhaustion. Or maybe Los Angeles is wearing on me. Either way, I better shake things up quickly before I officially become cynical.

Fortunately, I have the ideas... I just need the motivation.

Motivation where are you?

Why have you left me so?

Come back.

My Top Ten ('09)

2009-01-15T11:05:00.000-08:00

After countless hours at the cineplex, tons of popcorn consumed, and many movie passes used, I've finally been able to recap my favorite films of this past year. If you have even the slightest clue about me, you know that I'm a total list maker. I make lists when I go to the grocery store, pack a suitcase, and as a salute to 2008 -- My Top Ten Films of 2008.

10. Frost/Nixon

Upon entering the movie theatre, I wasn't really sure what to expect. I mean, the ingredients for this movie seemed all too perfect -- talented cast, Tony-Award winning play, rock star director. Yet, I still wasn't the least bit excited. If I wanted to watch a televised interview between a TV anchor and a politician, I'd have stayed home with Tina Fey and Amy Poeler. Then, without even a warning, a surprising thing happened on my way to the exit... I actually liked it. Not only was this film intriguing, but it was thoroughly entertaining. Who'd have thought a simple stage play between two talking heads could transform into such a nail biting political thriller.

9. The Dark Knight
Heath Ledger. Heath Ledger. Heath Ledger. I'll be the first to admit that I'm not a huge fan of the superhero franchise. In fact, I spent an entire summer interning at Marvel Studios where I was painfully swimming in a sea of weird cartoon magazines -- I think they're called comic books? Therefore, when I decided to jump on the highly publicized band wagon, I attempted to mask my inevitable skepticism with a forced calmness. ...And then a revelation. Heath Ledger graced the screen with an almost unrecognizable portrayal of the Joker and I was sold. Next stop: Oscar.

8. Sex and the City: The Movie

While most boys were counting down the days till the latest batman installment, I was anticipating a very different movie. Ever since Carrie Bradshaw packed up her Manolo Blahniks on HBO's hit comedy, I've been going through Sex withdrawals. Seriously, my palms were sweaty and I had the shakes! Then, after what felt like a decade, I saw it! Make no mistake, it wasn't the best picture ever made (and doesn't hold a candle near the series). However, like a drunken night after the Beta Kappa luau, it certainly was satisfying.

7. Doubt
Is there anything Meryl Streep can't do? I'm convinced that woman could portray William Howard Taft and still be nominated for an Oscar. As my previous blog expressively implies, I was beyond impressed with Michael Patrick Shanley's stage-to-screen adaptation. Everything from the writing to the performances deserves praise, especially having dealt with such a controversial subject matter. I have no, um, doubt that it'll get kudos come award season. By the way, that "doubt" pun never gets old. Okay, maybe it does....

6. Wall-E

Who knew robots could be this cute? I was under the impression that most robots were either terrifying (the Terminator), creepy (Hayley Joel Osment in 'A.I.') or gay (C-3PO). Yet, Wall-E proved that it doesn't take many characters or excessive dialogue to create a heartfelt story. Hell, I even rooted for the nasty-ass cockroach. Pixar proves once again that they're the masters behind well-made animation films. Now, if they could only make a film about a tape worm on a whimsical quest in a digestive tract...

5. Milk

"My name is Harvey Milk and I'm here to recruit you". Just hearing Sean Penn say these words sends a shiver down my spine. Initially, I walked into this film with relatively little knowledge of Harvey Milk. I knew he was a gay activist. I knew he was assassinated. Beyond that, I wasn't too familiar with his political background. Then, this 2 hour and 8 minute film did something I didn't expect... it became a stirring admonition on the participatory political process, and an unspoken incitement to get involved.

4. Rachel Getting Married

Have I ever mentioned that I'm an Anne Hathaway fan? It's true, I can't make this stuff up. Therefore, when I finally stumbled upon the trailer for this Jonathan Demme film, I was obviously elated. My favorite gal pal doing what she does best - acting! However, after screening the movie in its entirety, I discovered that it was much more than the Anne Hathaway show. The story was beautifully written and the film was well crafted. It was the best looking home video I've ever seen.

3. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

Three hours is excruciatingly long for any movie. I coped through Titanic. I forgave all three Lord of the Rings. I suffered through King Long (er, Kong...). And it's safe to say that Australia and I aren't talking. Therefore, you can imagine my hesitation when I heard Button was another epic long film. Yet, somewhere between my hesitation and Brad Pitt's lips, I seem to have moved beyond any weariness and into complete awe. Having seen it twice, I can honestly say it's the best epic I've seen in years... with a Brad Pitt cherry on top.

2. Slumdog Millionaire

A little over 3 months ago, I was invited to a special screening of this movie. After one look at the poster, I dismissed the invitation assuming it revolved around some sort of marathon and its million dollar prize (Doesn't it look that way??). Little did I know, this film would eventually become a cinematic phenomenon and a Best Picture front runner. This is a prime example why someone should never judge a book, or movie, by its cover. Now if you don't mind, I must go put all my eggs in one basket, cross a bridge before I get there, and cry over spilt milk.

1. Happy-Go-Lucky

I'm not sure why, but I've gotten into the habit of choosing feel-good comedies as my favorite movies of the year. Two years ago, I picked Little Miss Sunshine. Last year, Juno. Now, I've gotten so blatantly obvious, I went and selected a film with happiness smack down in the title. Mike Leigh's film about an excessively peppy school teacher, named Poppy, did what so many films neglect to do -- open the audience's eyes. After seeing the film, I attempted to see the world the way Poppy does. Carefree and positive. However, after a mere two days, I aborted the experiment. I'm sorry, but I'm convinced Poppy was popping Percocet...

Anyway, I say in complete honesty, Happy-Go-Lucky is a film that deserves to be seen. Still feeling hesitant? Perhaps Poppy's worldview optimism is exactly what you need.

The Belfast Invasion

2009-01-12T11:47:00.000-08:00

When the words 'house guests' are immediately mentioned, most people have the tendency to become stricken by instantaneous exhaustion, needless worrying, and an inevitable urge to be as hospitable as possible. Two weeks ago was no exception. Upon returning from Christmas break, I was introduced to a brand new clan of characters. Jessi, my alcoholic roommate, had previously spent an entire year in Ireland where she was fortunate enough to befriend a hand full of international natives. Being the devoted chums that they are, they packed their best vacation attire, braved the 10 hour transcontinental flight, and took America by storm.

Initially, I wasn't really prepared of what to expect. I mean, I've heard horror stories of the Irish. They're needlessly vicious, speak with almost undecipherable accents, and can drink circles around any Joe Shmo. However, after spending a significant amount of time with them, I was pleasantly proven wrong (well, except for the drinking part...)

Within the week, not only did I get to know each of them on an individual basis, friendships were actually developed. We talked. We ate. We even had a few drinks. Then, like the analytical inebriate I am, I started thinking about friendships. How many friends can you sincerely call "actual friends"? We all have acquaintances, we have old colleagues, school friends, frienemies, and stand-alone buddies. Yet, the friends we tend to connect with are few and far between. Ordinarily, it would take me a good chunk of time to develop a friendship. Genuine relationships aren't built on a whim, they need to be watered and nourished. It usually takes time for that mutual connection switch to click on. However, when opportunity meets wine, something rare can happen -- you can connect with someone instantly.

It can't be explained. Perhaps the planets were aligned and the universe took advantage of the moment. Perhaps the Irish have some sort of voodoo magic they smuggled into the U.S. (and by "magic", I mean whiskey). Or perhaps, as I make my way into a brand new year, my previous post proves true and I'm finally able to see life in a positive light.

Let's just hope that light lasts. I think it will. It has to.

2009's the New Black

2009-01-08T15:56:00.000-08:00

This morning I had an epiphany. Perhaps it's because I've been hanging out with the Irish lately or maybe it's because I've had rose-colored glasses permanently implanted on my face. Either way, I've recently become consciously aware of my daily outlook on life. I've come to realize that every detail of my actions and second of my thoughts correlates to a certain preconceived outcome. Sheesh, I'm like a freakin' billboard for The Secret! However, I believe they actually have something there ("secret", my ass).

As the New Year kicks off in full gear, I've encountered a myriad of people proclaiming that 2009's gonna "kick 2008's butt". They admit 2008 was undeniably miserable and have positive hopes for the future. Well, that's all fine and dandy, but how positive can anyone be starting a new year when their memories of the last is tainted? That's a lot of unnecessary baggage to be carrying around, don't you think?

I'm not saying I'm any better. A year ago I posted a blog that fits seamlessly within the accused. I was all too eager to say, "fuck you 2007" and expect 2008 to treat me any better. Therefore, I'm taking action. I'm learning from my mistakes and taking the proverbial high road. Wow, look at that.... I must be growing up.

So, 2008: Thank you for a fantastic year. We've had quite the journey. Though you've posed a lot of obstacles and challenges, I've gained more than you could possibly know. I've appreciated every second you've given me. And now, as I carefully tuck my memories into my traveling suitcase, I must bid you farewell. A new year has arrived and she's calling out to me.

Happy New Year. Here's to good health and the days.

Year-in-Review

2009-01-05T13:22:00.000-08:00

Can you believe a whole year has gone by? It feels like just yesterday I purchased my Manduka high performance yoga mat half-off from Target (only to be untouched for 11 months...). Now, 2009 has snuck out of nowhere and I'm confronted with the inevitable resolutionatory question. I find that New Years is front-loaded with arbitrary expectations that tend to disappoint. How many times can one person swear the oath of exercise?

However, I had a good time last year. I met a few friends, had a drink or two, and avoided waking up in a stranger's bedroom. That's grounds for celebration! In fact, I'm banking on a similar finale this year...

On another note, I'm über excited to take down my Christmas decorations. In all actuality, I tend to think of my roommates as yuletide bulimics. They tend to go inappropriately overboard on the paper snowflakes, ornaments, etc. In fact, I've purposely avoided the front room in fear of becoming momentarily blind. Yes. It's true.

Okay, resolutions: Last year, I made a resolution to purchase a 3-piece suit for the obligatory job interview. However, the closest I came to a suit was a $10 jumper from Buffalo Exchange. Does that count? I did, though, make good on a few other resolutions. Screenplay. Check. Website. Check. Read two books a month. 1/2 check. Treat myself more. Double check.

My 2008: Expensive.

This year, I resolve to fix any mistakes I made last year, try my hand at that contraption called a stove, and find a boy (easier said...). I will write more. And I'm gonna shoot for the friggin' stars if it kills me (John Glenn, watch out!).

And this, my friends, was random babbling from yours truly. Hey, I had to start off the year somehow....

Christmas - Shaken. Not stirred.

2008-12-21T15:11:00.000-08:00

When the stress of the Holidays become unbearably monotonous and the world around me transforms into a destructive minefield congested with deranged Christmas shoppers, it seems likely (if not necessary) to attend a fabulous party. This past Saturday night, I dusted off my favorite festive sweater, grabbed a bottle of Chardonnay, and headed over to my friend's annual Christmas gathering. Amidst the crowded room, I noticed that this soiree wasn't your typical yuletide get-together. Sure, Christmas tunes played from a nearby stereo while the cater waiters handed out tasty hors d'oeuvres. However, something still felt "off". Upon further investigation, I discovered that professional "Industry types" were the primary source of people in the room and their assertive personalities exuded just that. You know what I'm talking about, vodka-guzzling agents and their twenty-something girlfriends.

Yet, these agents, managers, and PR reps weren't the ones that irked me. In fact, they were actually the ones who inspired the more honest conversations. It wasn't until later when a reality television producer showed up with his boy-band entourage (twenty years his junior). That's when my curiosity really kicked in. It was like half the November Abercrombie ad walked through the door -- each guy maintaining a quality of external perfection and beauty. I even noticed two of them checking themselves out in a nearby mirror... (Um, those egos aren't gonna build themselves). It was obvious that these guys were tagging along for networking purposes, but when does it stop being socially acceptable and start being seen as exploitation?

It got me thinking. Living in Los Angeles, everybody's out for themselves. It's impossible to come across a person without catching on to their own personal agendas. With that in mind, were these Zoolander impersonators simply playing the game or merely abusing their narcissistic power? How far is too far until the old adage, "when you got it flaunt it", proves to be untrue? As someone involved in the "industry game" myself, I was always taught to do what I know, never hold back, and keep pushing forward. Therefore, aren't I doing the same thing? Doesn't all forms of art require some sort of exploitation? Sure, what I'm flaunting may not be disguised with perfectly toned six-packed abs and smoldering features, but I'm in the very same boat they are. I think we all are.

Perhaps this Nation isn't that different from Los Angeles. We all have our own personal agendas secretly tucked away in our back pockets. We all can see the light at the end of the tunnel. And finally, as we move through this adventure we call 'life', we have our own egos that need a little assisting. Ours just may be a little bit more towards the left.

Blogiversary

2008-12-14T15:25:00.000-08:00

Call off the search parties and wipe your foreheads, I'm alive. Barely. As we approach this upcoming week, I've become overwhelmingly bombarded with yuletide obligations. From Holiday shopping to annual Christmas parties, this month has become a seasonal poo-poo platter of merriment and debt. I'm just doing my part to bolster the national economic index (and relieve a little guilt...)

Anyways, this time of year also marks another monumental occasion. Just one year ago, I started writing this little blog as an outlet for my thoughts and frustrations. Most of which sparked by my life here in Los Angeles. Suffice to say, a lot has changed in a year. I've matured as a person while maintaining an air of innocence that often becomes jaded from living in this big city. Hopefully, the next year will be just as eventful and memorable as the last one.

In honor of my first post ever, I'd like to give a shout-out to Nutcracker Jack. He and I would like to wish everyone a Happy Holiday. May your Christmas be merry and gay... with extra rum-spiked eggnog of course...

Oscar on the Brain

2008-12-10T11:23:00.000-08:00

Do you hear that? Listen closely. If you stand completely still, you'll hear the sound of 28 Oscars being created. Yes, that's right. Awards season has kicked off in full force and, like every other movie junkie, I've jumped on to the highly-obsessive band wagon. Like most cinephiles, I also have a list of projected filmmakers, writers, and actors I expect to be announced nomination morning. However, every year I grip tightly onto the idea that certain personal favorites would appease my addiction and ultimately make the Academy's shortlist.

In 2006, I was on team Devil Wears Prada. It was inevitable that Queen Meryl would get a nomination, but screenwriter Aline Brosh McKenna and costume designer Patricia Field's fate seemed less likely. Fortunately, the latter clinched the Oscar Nod while Aline wasn't as lucky.

Then, in 2007, I began a short lived love affair with Diablo Cody. Need I say more?

This year, as the Christmas season approaches, I have merely three names on my Santa wish list:

1. Anne Hathaway - The buzz surrounding her performance, not to mention her early precursor awards, has almost guaranteed a nomination. Believe me, nothing would make me happier than to be able say, "Oscar nominee (winner?) Anne Hathaway".

2. Claudio Miranda - Or better known as the Director of Photography for The Curious Case of Benjamin Buttons. He's an amazingly talented cinematographer and the film looks terrific. Not to mention, we represent him, so that doesn't hurt...

3. Regina Spektor (for writing 'The Call') - She's one of my favorite singers/artists out there. Her voice is spectacular and if she doesn't get nominated for this award-worthy song, so help me God....

Oh, and Milk winning Best Picture wouldn't hurt either....

That's Not My Name

2008-12-05T15:51:00.000-08:00

While in high school, through the thick of homework and extra curricular activities, I worked as a server at a local retirement community. Park Regency was its name, and assisted living and skilled nursing services was its game. Anyway, once 6th period let out, I'd throw my apron on, jump in my '93 Infiniti G20, and head to work ready to take the elderly by storm. I'd show up promptly at 4pm as if the weight of the world fell on my shoulders. Okay, not really. Unless you consider evening dinner detrimental to the universe (Which, incidentally, some of the residents did...).

In all honesty, these people were some of the most interesting people I've ever met. Their stories. Their history. Their jokes! One of my favorite residents, Mr. Diello, would shuffle in the dining room as he leaned against his brass walker, and shoot me a disgruntled stare. I'd approach him eagerly and ask, "Good evening Mr. Diello, where would you like to sit?". He'd reply, "On the roof! Is there room on the roof?!" LoLoL, oh Mr. Diello...... I guess you needed to be there.....

Unfortunately, for my entire "career" at Park Regency, the residents had a problem with calling me by my actual name -- Elias. Perhaps their hearing aids were purposely turned down, but they seemed to always forget the 'S' and mistake it for a 'T'. Therefore, my serving name was permanently "Elliot" and I was subsequently always asked to "phone home". Uh, childhood trauma much? I'm pretty sure that's why I go by Eli now...

Blast from the Past - Part 5

2008-12-03T11:00:00.000-08:00

Yet another embarrassing journal entry from my collegiate days. Seriously, what was my damage? This doesn't even make sense! And to be frank, I'm actually a little hesitant to re-post this...

Monkey 1: "What was Eli writing about?" Monkey 2: "I have no idea."

When did humans develop language? Are the origins of language lost in the mist of time, or does science provide us with some clues as to how this ability appeared? To me, it seems that language appeared out of nowhere, since no other species has anything resembling human language. Therefore, it wasn’t surprising when another language recently emerged at the University of Arizona – a language I like to call The Sex Code.

Now, I'm certainly not a specialist of linguistics (nor lingaystics), but in a world where communication is key in any relationship, how can we be so sure we're speaking the same language. Think about it, how many times have our words been tangled in the dating web? It’s a peculiar world out there. Since when does the phrase, ‘let’s be friends’ translate to ‘I want you!’.

Seriously, this form of miscommunication is often exemplified within this theatre major. I’m a huge advocate on friendship and networking, however it’s hard to approach any egotistical college student without being presumably judged for "hitting on them". In the world of relationships, do we need a translator or are we just left to be stared at like a gaylien?

Well, luckily there is a solution to this verbal mishap and a key to unlock this Sex Code. I've learned to simply learn the dating lingo, separate my networks from those I'm actually interested in, and always be myself. I’ve also learned, if someone likes me, they should be able to directly say it out loud – any form of deciphering shouldn't be a problem.

The human language has always been a complicated issue in today’s dating society. Why does it have to be this difficult? Fortunately for us, this lingo isn’t necessarily a road block to happiness. There's a way around this bewildering language and, as we become more accustomed to it, this Code will hopefully get lost in the mist of time.

Giving Thanks

2008-11-25T10:54:00.000-08:00

With Thanksgiving just around the corner, I've thought extensively about what I'm personally thankful for in my life. Obviously, my family, friends, and health deserve my primary gratitude, but with all that the world has to offer, it seems foolish not to be thankful for so much more.

This Universe is filled with all kinds of people. Big, small, tall, short, dark, light, old, young - each distinguished with a unique look and personality. Neighborhoods are filled with an array of diverse characters waiting to be written in the pages of their own book. Therefore, as I walk these sidewalks and pass by complete strangers, I can't help but appreciate the subtle nuances they have to offer. Their smiles. Their laughs. Their walks. Their stances. Their frustrations. Their tears. Each embodying the tiniest of details that are too distinct to be written -- if not imagined.

So, yes, I'm thankful for strangers. Complete strangers. Unknown men and women that haven't directly entered my life, but have ultimately entered my thoughts.

The following video was created by Crush & Lovely, a group of filmmakers who asked one question, and elicited a multitude of responses -- not to mention some of those subtle personality traits I've grown so fond of....

Back to Reality

2008-11-21T11:19:00.000-08:00

For most people in this recession-filled world, the movie theatre is regarded as a far-off retreat created to distract the mind (and the pocketbook). A sanctuary where people flock towards when the horrors of this economy and frustrations of primetime television become exceedingly overwhelming. Therefore, it took me by surprise when my latest venture to the movies turned out to be anything but an escape from reality.

Last Sunday, I arrived at the Academy building bright and early where I was eager to catch a screening of Sam Mendes' Revolutionary Road. I didn't really have any expectations for the film, despite the rekindling of my childhood infatuations - Jack and Rose (i.e. my earliest inclination for a bonafide threesome...). Anyways, the movie itself was lackluster. Meaning, it lacked any real depth since Mendes, being the theatre director he is, puts everything out on the table for everyone to see. It lacked subtly - a directing trait that's definitely not one of his strengths. And although Kate and Leo did a commendable job and will undoubtedly get nominated for an Oscar (more so Kate, than Leo...), they lacked any real humility. I felt they yelled through the whole thing. Come on people, why not just get a freakin' divorce?!

Sorry, I got distracted. This wasn't meant to be a review. Back to the story. As the movie reached its final 10 minutes, the audience was pulled from their cinematic trance due to a sudden wheezing. At first I thought the tension from this movie proved too much for an emotional viewer. As I peered back from my seat, I noticed someone had rendered themselves completely unconscious.

Suddenly, the lights flickered on, the film turned off, and everyone centered their attention around this person. It appeared she was experiencing a seizure. Coincidentally, nobody had their cell phones on them because they're prohibited from the screening room. Thankfully, some disobedient woman pulled her blackberry from her purse and called an ambulance.

Once the immediate shock wore off, the woman was treated by paramedics and taken to a nearby hospital (and according to sources, she's made a full recovery). That being said, you must put yourselves in our shoes. Revolutionary Road isn't a movie for the light hearted. It's a depressing film. Hell, it makes American Beauty look like a romantic comedy. This real-life incident only elevated the intensity and melodrama of the story. Like I said... de-press-ing.

In the end, however, the Academy thanked us for our cooperation and allowed us to finish the film. Now, mind you, before the unfortunate incident, we had just finished the saddest part in the entire movie. Therefore, according to them, it made perfectly good sense to rewind it five minutes prior so we can relive that moment once again. Joy...!

Once the emotional dust cleared, I was left with a foul taste in my mouth . Revolutionary Road wasn't the cup of tea I had expected, but I believe that's because of the unintentional fusion of reality and "fantasy". It was tainted. But now that a few days have passed and I'm able to absorb the film in its entirety, perhaps I should re-evaluate my initial reaction. Or, dare I say, see the movie again?

Maybe I will -- this time I'll just be sure to have extra Kleenex, a paper bag, and a sedative handy.

Doubt Review

2008-11-17T11:18:00.000-08:00

This past Sunday, while most Americans received their familiar football fix, I was fortunate to be treated to a double dosage of movie magic. Sunday morning, I braved the morning dew to attend an Academy screening of Sam Mendes' Revolutionary Road (more to come). However, my weekend didn't really begin until that evening when I experienced John Patrick Shanley's wonderfully adapted Doubt. In fact, the studio even set up a panel of the crew consisting of director/writer Shanley, cinematographer Roger Deakins, editor Dylan Tichenor, production designer David Gropman, costume designer Ann Roth, and composer rock star Howard Shore.

For those not completely familiar with the stage-to-screen storyline, Doubt centers on Sister Aloysius Beauvier (Meryl Streep) who becomes increasingly suspicious of Father Flynn's relationship with the school's first black student. While I admit to not having seen the stage version (shameful, I know), I must confess that I was instantly drawn to Shanley's impeccable writing style. Just a tiny reminder, this is the man who wrote Joe Versus the Volcano... I'm just sayin'. With precision, humility, and an intentionally interwoven wit, he made this screenplay seem almost effortless. It's no wonder why he racked up all the theatre awards three years back.

Anyways, when asked what compelled him to transfer the play into a film, Shanley quipped "When they asked me to make it". And thank God they did! If they hadn't, he wouldn't have been able to compile a cast of actors that made this dialogue seem as fluid as my Uncle Richard's drunken slurs. According to Shanley, "I hired Meryl Streep because I wanted to see what she would do". He added, "I then hired Phillip Seymour Hoffman because I knew he'd make [Streep] work like a dog". And boy did he ever! I wouldn't be surprised if Hoffman, Streep, and the talented Viola Davis heard their names announced nomination morning.

Speaking of Streep... it was inevitable she was going to provide a powerhouse performance. That was obvious. However, it wasn't clear how much conviction and sincere detail she would devote to Sister Aloysius. According to Roth, Streep was so invested in this character, she and an on-set seamstress had a contest to see who could finish knitting a shawl first. As a result, the winner's design would eventually be used in the film (Wow, that's so Project Runway!). To nobody's surprise, Streep was in and the seamstress was out. What can I say? Meryl's a master at creating the most meaty character traits and her subtext is undeniably second nature. Once the film rolled its last credit, I waved dismissively and declared, "just give her the Oscar now".

All in all, this film ultimately dives into the tension between unbending principle and the call for compassion and human understanding. It reaches far beyond 1964, and can be thematically related to the current changing times of today.

That being said, I'm optimistic critics will latch on to this film, and even more assured audiences will as well. In fact, afterwards I was asked if I thought this film had a chance at a Best Picture nomination, and without any hesitation I adamantly replied... "I have no doubt".

I guess we'll have to wait and see....

New York City: Day 5

2008-11-14T16:19:00.000-08:00

I'm not much of a traveler. In fact, I can probably count the places I've visited on one hand. I'm embarrassed to admit I've never even traveled internationally.... I don't even own a passport! Therefore, New York was more than just a mere vacation. It was actually a life experience. Although I've visited the Big Apple before, I can honestly say I never grow tired of its culture. The people, history, and architecture are awe-inspiring and I can definitely guarantee residency in the future.

Anyways, the last day of New York Vacay 2008 ended as memorable as it began. After visiting tourist must-sees like the Statue of Liberty, Ground Zero, and Little Italy (The food there was fantastic... thanks to our new friend Tony "Soprano"), we dressed to the nines, threw caution to the wind, and painted the town red.

We grabbed dinner at an ultra-touristy restaurant where the food was expensive and the waiters busted out in song. At first, the performances were entertaining (it was homo-palooza in there). However, after a failed attempt of Defying Gravity, I had just about enough. We stuffed the $20 veggie burgers in our mouths, threw down our "hard earned" cash, and booked it to see the amazingly brilliant musical In the Heights.

It goes without saying that this experience was undeniably memorable. The itinerary was filled with surreal opportunities, spectacular sites, and also a drink or two... However, what really made this vacation great were the people I spent it with. Monica, Lisa, Jessi, and Sarah have always been fantastic amigos (and even better accessories). They're continuously there for me when the times get tough, they never cease to make me laugh, and to be able to have this opportunity to share such a spectacular city with them... well, that was just fabulous.

That being said, I have one final message for my estranged lover named New York... we shared a beautiful week together and you did not disappoint me. You made me feel complete (and, at times, confused) But, alas, I must bid you farewell. Adieu my love. I take comfort that this isn't a permanent goodbye, but a brief 'until later'. I promise you.... you have not seen the last of me! :)

New York City: Day 4

2008-11-13T14:22:00.000-08:00

It goes without saying that day four of my New York Vacay 2008 consisted of several glasses of water, a handful of Tylenol, and a coffee the size of my head. After several nights of drinking, dancing, and gallivanting, our minds and bodies were thoroughly exhausted. Some R & R was definitely in order. Not to mention it was Sunday... God's day... The day of rest! It was crucial we found a sanctuary that wasn't only spiritual, but accepted us... despite our aforementioned hangover and inevitable dark circles.

However, instead of finding a church to worship in, we had to settle for a hole-in-the-wall drag diner in Greenwich Village. So in place of a Priest, we were treated to Baby Honeychild's lip-syncing sermon. And communion consisted of unlimited Mimosas.... What? I can't have a Mimosa at breakfast? I'm on vacation! (Dear Madonna - Bless us with good health, a happy future, and killer footwear. And deliver us from male pattern baldness. Gaymen.)

Afterwards, we decided to hit the tourist circuit visiting key locations like Rockefeller Center, NBC Studio, Central Park, and Times Square. Also, to add a little more excitement to our already jam-packed day, we decided to try our luck on a Broadway show lottery. Yes, drinking and gambling on a Sunday.... We waited outside the Avenue Q theatre, held our breath with sheer hopefulness, and watched as they drew various names from a bucket. As you could probably guess, Monica's name was selected from the damn bunch. (What's with this chick? How lucky can one person be?!)

Anyways, Avenue Q was phenomenal! The Tony Award winning musical consisted of furry puppets, lavish sets, and unbelievably peppy songs. Hmmm, how can I further explain it to you... Do you remember the first time you really understood the meaning and significance behind Sesame Street? When Big Bird, Elmo, and Snuffleupagus taught us about morals, ethics, and kindness. Yeah, this show was nothing like that. In fact, it was quite the opposite. With songs like "Everyone's a Little Bit Racist", "It Sucks to be Me", and "You Can be as Loud as the Hell You Want (When You're Making Love)", the show teetered on the line of social decency. That being said... it was awesome. We were even fortunate to meet the cast!

Afterwards, we decided to end the night early. No bar. No alcohol. No run-in with the cops. It just didn't really seem appropriate. After all, we had a moderately calm and enjoyable day... we figured our livers were entitled to the same luxury...

New York City: Day 3

2008-11-12T11:16:00.000-08:00

High school -- It's an inevitable right of passage in everybody's life. Some graduate with intentions of never looking back. Others leave with an inner turmoil and yearn for longer days. I was neither here nor there. My time in High School was fine. I was in the symphony orchestra, historian of the National Honors Society, Editor-in-Chief of the school newspaper, and anything lower than an 'A' was unheard of. I had great friends (and even greater acquaintances) and ultimately enjoyed every moment of my Dobson High days. Though, like most of my classmates, I've moved well beyond those memories.

Therefore, when Lisa suggested attending Awesome 80's Prom - an interactive show where actors pose as High School stereotypes - I took it with the proverbial grain of salt. I've been through the prom scene before. I've voted for prom royalties, befriended the foreign exchange student, and been ignored by the head cheerleader. Why would I want to return?

Perhaps I feared returning back to the "High School Eli".... The closeted, shy, never-really-took-any-chances Eli. Fortunately, I had New York on my side. With my friends nearby, we sported our costumes for one more night, clutched arms, and took the Awesome 80's Prom by storm.

It only seemed appropriate to immerse ourselves into the environment. Naturally, we all took interest in a certain cast member. Lisa was drawn to the "bad-boy" rebel while Sarah flirted with the captain of the football team. Jessi befriended the student body president and Monica re-enacted the Romy and Michelle dance with the foreign exchange student. Me? I was naturally ignored by the head cheerleader... but true to self, I eventually slow danced with the highly stereotyped "nerd". Remember that girl? The one who barely was noticed in the classroom and was severely talked about behind her back. I know this was purely fiction, but it was definitely drawn from reality.

Anyways, after hours of dancing, the costume contest began. My posse and I walked across the stage to be judged by the jury (Judgement? In high school? Weird...). Though, after a short deliberation, we couldn't pull off the win. That went to the scary-ass villain from Saw. Yet, on a positive note, we did take home second place!! Which was accompanied by t-shirts and New Kids on the Block tickets (We were definitely on a winning streak!).

So as you can see, all in all it was an excellent third day in New York City. Albeit, I may have referred back to my own High School experience a little too often. However, I prefer to think of that as an homage to my youth. Everything I learned in school has made me the person I am today. I'm no longer shy. I take chances. And I've never been more comfortable in my own skin. In all actuality, I appreciate the people who were less-than-kind to me. As Christina Aguilera would say, "Thanks for making me a fighter". All I can do now is cherish the moments, be thankful for what I learned, and move forward to an even better tomorrow.

Now if you don't mind, I better get back to my English report.... It's, like, totally late.

New York City: Day 2

2008-11-11T12:07:00.000-08:00

For most people in this day and age, Halloween eve consists of piles of candy, a myriad of pricey costume possibilities, and overly-congested bars filled with inebriated slutty cats. For me, however, Halloween this year was so much more than that. On day two of my New York Vacay 2008, my posse and I hit the streets of Manhattan decked out in our festive garb. Let me preface this post by admitting that I'm not much of a Halloween fiend. In fact, I'd much prefer a quiet night at home with roasted popcorn seeds and Hocus Pocus.

Anyways, bright and early, Monica and I braved the morning subway in full costume to attend the Halloween taping of Regis and Kelly. Let me just tell you... apart from having to hike through New York City dressed as a scarecrow (so embarrassing), the turn-out was incredible! The block surrounding the Regis and Kelly studio was utter mayhem. Seriously, it looked as though Halloween threw up... People went hog-wild with their costumes. It made my sad, little scarecrow costume look like a hand-me-down from Goodwill.

Upon entering the studio, I noticed how compressed everything was. Television sure does wonders for size (that's what she said). Despite the fact that the entire show was pre-taped (except for two segments with the co-hosts), the show was quite entertaining. I mostly credit Sammy Davis Jr. and Frank Sinatra for the laughs (no offense Regis....) Anyway, to nobody's surprise, the ladies dressed as a freakin' roller coaster won first place. However, I'm certain I actually won the bigger prize... Kelly Rippa turned to me and said, "you look fierce". If that isn't the ultimate compliment, I don't know what is...

The night, on the other hand, was total debauchery. Without any hesitation, The Wizard of OZ gang attempted to walk the Greenwich Village Halloween parade. Mind you, this wasn't merely a simple gathering of people. This parade consisted of thousands and thousands of costume wearing whores and their "better halves". Including everything from Joe the Plumber to about three-hundred Jokers (I'm sure Heath Ledger's looking down thinking, "Seriously people? Be a little bit more fucking creative.") Anyways, if it weren't for my costume accessories -- vodka and tequila -- I'd have gone completely insane.

The rest of the night is still kind of a blur. I assure you, good times were had. Though, it's still difficult to pinpoint whether we got kicked out of the bar before or after Jessi dropped a bottle of Perrier and continued to drink from it...

New York City: Day 1

2008-11-06T12:41:00.000-08:00

It's a relatively known fact that the busiest and most popular cities in the United States can be easily distinguished on an American map. Chicago, Philadelphia, Houston, and Phoenix are simply a few of those over-populated, bustling locations (new plague, anyone?). So what does someone do to escape the chaos and frustrations of Los Angeles? He visits New York City of course...

This past week I put my vacation days to good use, booked my Frontier Airline flight, and headed to the Big BIG Apple (otherwise known as my other home). My roommates, Jessi and Sarah, felt it necessary to visit our dear friends before the distant memories of our college days began to fade. Fortunately, Lisa and Monica were kind enough to house us for five days. A hospitality offer I, myself, would have reconsidered....

If I were to relay the entire trip in this one blog entry, I assure you it would go on for days. Instead, I'll ease you in by simply breaking down the entries. Starting with the first full day of my New York Vacay 2008!

As most of my amigos know, I'm an enormous fan of Sex and the City. In fact, my earlier college entries are obviously reminiscent of Carrie Bradshaw's column (embarrassing? Yes. Ashamed.... kinda). Fortunately, my friends are just as obsessed. We decided to take the ever-popular Sex and the City Tour. We traveled all over Manhattan visiting key film locations.

1) First Stop: The Pleasure Chest. Remember the Rabbit? For those of who aren't in the "know", the girls visit a sex shop filled with erotic goodies - including an array of dildos. I'm talkin' the works! Acrylic dildos, glass dildos, silicone double-sided rubber dildos, jelly vibrating dildos, mahogany dildos, three-strap harness... with dildo, strap-on dildo with vibrator and remote control...... shall I go on? As you can see from my picture above, I'm completely appalled.... and slightly intrigued.

2) Second Stop: The Bookshop. Remember the guy Miranda met who liked to have sex in public places? In the midst of the busy streets of Manhattan, Monica and I decided to recreate the scene. "I'll have to check that out after I finish FDR: The New York Years". I'll have you know, we recreated many scenes on that tour -- an act almost unbearable to think back on.

3) Third Stop: Carrie's Stoop: Incidentally, the one location completely taboo to visit. Apparently, after years of bus tours, the current apartment owner forbids anyone from visiting. The tour guide wouldn't even tell us where the stoop was located! However, my SATC knowledge reaches far beyond the average fan. Knowing that her fictitious apartment was located on Perry street, my friends and I trespassed the chained entry and snapped a photo. We discovered later that security cameras surrounded the stoop.... whoops!

4) Fourth Stop: Scout: Or more formally known as Steve Brady's bar. Like your average alcoholic, we decided to buy Cosmopolitans at 2 o'clock in the afternoon. To make matters worse, we brought a flask of vodka to give these beverages a stronger kick. Do you judge me?

5) The Final Stop: Actually, it wasn't a stop at all. The tour guide ended the day with trivia questions from the series. As if this bitch could really stump us? Between the five of us, we answered about 95% of the questions. We won two Magnolia Bakery cupcakes and Chicago tickets. I'm not sure if that makes us winners.... or losers.

6) F.A.O. Schwartz: I've never been fortunate enough to visit this mega toy store. So needless to say, I was in complete shock and awe! I was literally 7-years-old again wandering around my dream haven. The entire store was filled with puppets, doll houses, train sets, barbies, and micro-machines. These Harry Potter characters were actually created from Legos! The re-enactment, however, was all us.

7) F.A.O. Schwartz - Big Style: Yes. Your eyes aren't deceiving you. Jessi and I actually played "Heart and Soul" on the gigazmo piano. And yes, an audience of customers surrounded us and observed our duet. And yes, we were also accompanied by a 3-year-old boy. I never said we were cool.

8) Adam Pascal: Our first day ended with two dear friends. Adam Pascal - original cast member of Rent. And tequila - original cast member of See You Tomorrow. Earlier that week, we made reservations at the Chatterbox theatre - a small piano bar that primarily covers musicals. To our surprise, Adam (a.k.a Roger) decided to drop by for an interview. He also graced us with a song ("Music of the Night" from Phantom of the Opera). I believe I was coherent when I talked to him. Jessi on the other hand....

All in all, the first day was filled with surprises, chaos, and downright fun. Little did we know the following four days were going to be just as eventful....

The 44th President of the United States

2008-11-05T11:38:00.001-08:00

"With a spirit of service, sacrifice, responsibility, and patriotism: together with humility and determination." - President Barack Obama

Do you remember the first time you heard Martin Luther King Jr's 'I Have a Dream' speech? Which class were you in when you studied Rosa Parks or Harriet Tubman? History is made up of certain instances where moments are so preciously imprinted in the corner of our minds and hearts, we can recount the exact place where the moment unfolded. The feeling and emotion attached to that specific moment rushes through our veins -- it's like a historical high. Last night was no exception.

This election has undoubtedly sparked a completely new chapter in my life. A chapter where America has finally found the progressing road to a promising future of acceptance and equality. Sure, there are still some road bumps along the way (i.e. the passing of Proposition 8 - fuck you half of California), but this path is eventually destined for an amazing outcome. Barack Obama is merely the navigator whose perseverance and inspiration will lead us to a better tomorrow.

Okay, enough with the political hodge podge - back to my experience. Last night, as I channel surfed through CNN, NBC, ABC, C-SPAN and even BBC -- I hovered around the television set like a political addict. Anderson Cooper was my dealer and this election was my drug of choice. Without any hesitation, I soaked in the Obama electoral votes like it was heroin. Nothing could bring me down from this political high.

Then, as I began to calm my internal fix, the words appeared on the screen: Barack Obama Elected President. Almost immediately, I nearly overdosed. I lost control of myself and began reacting in involuntary fits of excitement. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God". I literally had to pinch myself.... "Can this really be happening?" Albeit, I acted a tad over-dramatic. But History is only made once, right?

My roommates and I popped open a bottle of bubbly, raised our glasses, and cheered to change and a stronger future. It's only a matter of time until the nation is united and President Obama can make good of what he promised. After all, MLK Jr sure did.... and that flame has never stopped burning.

We cannot walk alone.

And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead.

We cannot turn back.

- Martin Luther King Jr.

Vote However You Like

2008-10-28T10:52:00.000-07:00

The time is upon us. The election is on its last legs, the finish line is in sight - in just one week we'll know who is elected as the next President of the United States! In honor of this pivotol time of our lives (and the fact that I just voted by mail), I have to show you this video. Why is it always children who shine the positive light for the clouded closed-mindedness of adults?

P.S. It'll make you dance. These kids have rhythm!

Blast from the Past - Part 4

2008-10-22T14:24:00.000-07:00

Another old journal entry discovered! It's embarrassing how different my writing style was. On the other hand, it's embarrassing how similar it is as well..... guess not much has changed in four years. One thing's for sure - I'm just as analytical as I was as a Freshman in college.

College – it’s a wonderful time in our lives. This immense privilege allows us to foster our education, meet new friends, and establish ourselves as individuals. Also, it is unfortunately a time to encounter the complicated idea of love. With that in mind, as I walk the busy sidewalks of this campus, I notice that segregation has arisen as a severe issue. There are two types of people at the University of Arizona (a microcosm of the real world) – those in relationships and the unpopular singletons (essentially the majority of this population). Yet, as this school year fades into summer, a new type that is rarely spoken of is revealed – the hopeless singleton. This class is basically caught between wanting a relationship and being satisfied with their single stature –a ‘sexual purgaytory’ if you will. During a time when we’re suffocated by the pressures of love, I wonder if we've become too comfortable with being single? Or is it possible to defy this segregation and attain a “relationship”?

Let’s take a closer look, shall we? On this campus, it’s easy to see those in relationships. They are the ones who, for the most part, are flaunting their affection by holding hands and shamelessly ‘making-out’ near the bookstore (gag reflex). However, I question these “relationships-on-display”. As I walked passed them, attempting to hold down my lunch, I wondered if relationships today were, in fact, genuine. Or rather, is it just an endeavor to feel adequate with their adult lives? Think about it, living on our own challenges us to battle an array of obstacles. For the most part, it’s the first time we're living alone, paying our own bills, and growing as people. Wouldn’t a relationship push us that much closer towards adulthood?

On the other hand, the single life causes students (and graduates) to discover a completely different side of themselves. On our own, we're able to concentrate solely on our goals and aspirations. For the first time, we aren’t ‘tied down’ by our parents and, on the contrary to “the couple”, we can be free. Yes, this may be construed as selfishness (or insanity), but being independent may be vital during this point in our lives.

Then there are those in this ‘sexual purgaytory’. This ‘type’ cherishes every single minute of being single – we're free to do whatever (or whomever) we want, aren’t constricted to solely one person, and can concentrate on our ambitions. However, this freedom ultimately evokes desire for companionship. We want to have our ‘cock’ and eat it too. No matter what, we're never satisfied.

As someone who has embodies a little bit of all the aforementioned traits, I must step back and take action. Therefore, I have a dream. In this ‘love/no love’ world, we will always be forced to make choices. Are we willing to change? Or are we satisfied? I guess all I can say now, as the year comes to an end, is no matter what ‘clan’ we're all in, I recommend we break down this relationship barrier and, with high hopes for the future, follow our hearts.

Friday's Addiction

2008-10-17T10:47:00.000-07:00

Ooh, come to mama. Josh Groban's gonna drive me to drinking! Well, more than I already drink.... He's mojito-hot in this picture. Factor in his amazing singing voice and I'll definitely be in AA territory.

Diablo's Back!

2008-10-16T16:20:00.000-07:00

It started around this time last year. A cold Fall breeze on a particularly lonesome October evening, my coworker and I graced the multiplex to an advanced screening of Juno. Little did I know that an obsession with my soon-to-be hetero lover would begin. Although she and I had some rocky roads together (all is forgiven), Diablo Cody has since created a series that will undoubtedly bring her back into her greatly deserved spotlight. Incidentally, I've been fortunate enough to read the pilot episode and can say it has the potential to be thoroughly entertaining (or else, be as disastrous as the Hindenburg)

Proposition 8

2008-10-08T14:54:00.000-07:00

I'm all for voting no on Proposition 8, but it sincerely irks me when advertisements like this one are released (it reminds me of a bad skit from Mad TV). I understand that the intentions are solid and ultimately meant for the greater good, but there's a fine line between being informative and downright hokey. From an objective voter's point-of-view, I wouldn't be convinced or informed from this slapstick commercial. Nor would my perception of marriage equality be altered for the better.

Then again, I'm sure those prejudice conservatives who support prop 8 (or prop 102 for Arizonians) are more than willing to throw down a grand or two to keep marriage "sanction". They'd gladly fund wide-released advertisements (like this one) no matter how ridiculous they are. The hate in their hearts and selfishness in the heads must be tucked away, secured, and sealed and that can't be done without these preposterous campaigns.

You realize, there has been over $40 million put into Proposition 8 by both campaigns. $40 million!!! Personally, I think that kind of money would have been better invested towards saving Darfur, UNICEF, and/or aiding Hurricane Ike victims. Don't ya think?

I just wished we, as a nation, were at that stage where we didn't need political advertisements and ridiculous propositions to support equality for everyone. I wish we, as a nation, were matured, civilized, and selfless enough to look beyond sexual orientation, move passed our petty differences, and excel into an age of acceptance. And finally, I wish we, as a nation, would understand that marriage is defined by love. And no matter what those marriage equality opponents say, love has no boundaries.

I pray that proposition 8 doesn't pass. But if, by chance, it does - I promise you it will not be the end-all be-all. It's a known fact that once the smoke finally settles and the dust clears, love always wins. Always.

Who Wants a White Knight?

2008-10-02T15:50:00.000-07:00

If you watch Heroes, you know who he is. In fact, you either love him or you hate him. Sylar, played by the impeccably attractive Zachary Quinto, is the show's nastiest (yet, hottest) villain. What is it about the bad guy that sparks attraction? Is it the sexy smolder? The alluring spontaneity? The mysterious facade? Nothing's more appealing than a psychopathic, head-splitting murderer, right? Ironically, even when I was a child, I always seemed to gravitate towards the enemy. I rooted for Michelle Pfeiffer's Catwoman with every fiber of my being. My cousins would always tag me as Magneto during our X-Men play games. Hell, I'm even still curious what Cruela's coat would look like if she would've attained her desired material...

Therefore, it's no surprise my favorite character in Heroes is the villain. However, somehow I'm thinking this attraction reaches beyond fiction.... But why? WHY? Why is the "bad boy" always the most intriguing? It seems like they always have the most depth behind their tough, cold, (albeit, rugged) exterior. No matter how many Clark Kents and Peter Parkers there are, I seem to always fall for the Lex Luthors and Harry Osborns (swoon, James Franco). Perhaps it fits behind the notion that I'm not looking for a hero. Bonnie Tyler didn't know shit! I don't want to be saved (show of hands: who was as annoyed at Kirsten "Damsel Twat" Dunst as I was?). Instead, I'm looking for someone who can break through my tough exterior and be my partner in crime. I'm looking for the Clyde to my Bonnie that will move beyond saving the world and concentrate on one another. Is that too much to ask?

As for now, I'll just have to wait... and until then be content with my fictitious psychopathic, head-splitting murderer (every boy's fantasy....)

The Most Wonderful Time of the Queer

2008-09-25T12:16:00.000-07:00

Can you feel it? The most magical time of the year is upon us. The sweet aroma of grandma's Creme de Cacao and Peppermint Schnapps fills the air. The fluorescent glimmer of the penis-shaped Christmas bulbs line the tree. Even the traditional mistletoe serves as a seasonal excuse for the obligatory make-out session. It's like a scene out of Frank Capra's It's A Wonderful Life. Every time a bell rings, a fairy gets her wings..... That's right, it's Christmas in September!

This past weekend I was fortunate enough to participate in a good ole' fashioned Holiday tradition. Each year, a local gay bar hosts “Christmas in September”, an event supporting the Childrens Hospital Los Angeles. And I must say, this was like nothing I've ever seen before. The club was completely transformed with elaborate Christmas décor, fake snow, speciality cocktails, and even a very sexy Saint Nick ("here cums Santa Clause, here cums Santa Clause..."). Suddenly, the spirit of the Holidays flooded through me like rum-spiked egg nog. It was like a page from Irving Berlin's White Christmas...... except with trannies and gay men.

After cocktail 2, 3, and 7, we were all treated to some merry entertainment (Or should I say "Mary" entertainment?). One of the transgendered ho-ho-ho star's from Dirty, Sexy, Money graced the stage with a handful of uh-mazing performances. She's undeniably gorgeous with an ass that won't quit and breasts of a greek goddess. She even donned a festive, sexy Santa suit and sat on Santa's lap!! "I saw tranny kissing Santa Clause, underneath the camel toe last night...." (I like bursting out in perverted Christmas tunes.... so?)

After the liquor subsided, I was hit with a strong feeling of Christmas nostalgia. Aside from the go-go dancing elves and the 2 for 1 'Frostie the Blow Man' Martinis, this experience actually geared me up for December. Yes, I admit, I'm just as excited for door-to-door caroling, cookie-baking, and tree-trimming merriment as the next queen, but that's not what I'm truly anticipating. To me, Christmas is family. It's friends. It's love, happiness, and the reminiscence of childhood. It's the time of year when the stress from your job is irrelevant and petty disputes are moot. (I actually thought about all this while inebriated... I'm far too analytical).

Anyway, now the official countdown has truly commenced. Three more months till the most wonderful time of the year. Until then I'll just have to patiently wait.... While visions of sugar-fairies dance in my bed. ;)

Strike A Poser

2008-09-17T16:12:00.001-07:00

Last weekend I chose -- no, no -- I deigned to do something I vowed I'd never do. In the heat of creating my very first website (launching on a computer near you), I decided it'd be a good idea to pose for pictures which would be posted on my bitchin' homepage (that's right, I said "bitchin'"). Fortunately, my friend Joslyn has experience with this process, and was immediately hired as my stylist and photographer. I use the word "hired" loosely, because I'm clearly not gonna pay her. Well, not with money at least....

To my narcissistic surprise, many outfits were chosen, hairstyles created, and locations scouted with hopes of not resembling any hint of the elephant man. Then, out of nowhere, Sunday slowly crept up on me and I was unfortunately exposed to my own brand of torture. "Camera shy" doesn't even begin to describe how uncomfortable I was. The minutes ticked by painfully slow, the sun beamed down on my powder-coated skin, and I was blatantly aware of the neighborhood passers by. Needless to say, I pushed forward. I attempted to discover my inner-Tyra (smiling with my eyes). I imagined Janice Dickinson shouting foul insults in my face. Hell, even Heidi Klum evoked some inspiration - but no matter how much I trekked forth, I was completely out of my element. There's a reason why I want to be behind the camera!!!

I had a thought.... The level of confidence people attain is quite thought provoking, don't you think? I would love to be the type of person who shines in a picture, hogs the spotlight, and devours celluloid attention. You know, the person who is so excruciatingly comfortable in their own skin, they feel no need to apologize for standing right in front of you during a candid group photograph (you know who you are). As I sat on the cement stoop in my $20 wool coat (in 80 degree weather, might I add!) and Joslyn snapped away, I had a choice. I could either sit on the pavement quietly seething and undeniably miserable because of this self-inflicted situation. Or, I could throw caution to the wind, accept the fact that I'm not a model, and simply have fun.... and so I did.

With a couple shots of vodka, of course....

The World Around Me

2008-09-09T16:11:00.000-07:00

Every so often the stars align, the oceans rise, and it's bound to happen. It's as inevitable as a Naomi Campbell meltdown. Through no fault of my own, I wake up on the bitch side of the bed and my entire morning is unfortunately foul. Not even the site of the Today Show's Matt Lauer could snap me out of my sour mood.

Without any fair warning, yesterday was one of those days...

As my eyes flicked open Monday morning, I was instantly opposed to the start of the day. The teeniest agitations became magnified and I was filled with this seething irritation. The slightest occurrence would set me off like a ticking time bomb of frustration. I literally became Shannen Doherty circa 1993. Shoot, girl... I became Oprah Winfrey with wet hair (I would CUT you!).

However, as I stepped outside onto my Los Angeles suburban street, I noticed something I rarely pay attention to (yet get so much gratification out of) -- my neighbor's trimmed rose bushes lining the yard. I noticed the piercing red color. The glossy emerald leaves. The warm, fall sun bouncing off the velvet-like pedals. It was like a scene from American Beauty. Suddenly, I was reinforced with an air of positivity. Instead of beginning my day with such hostility, I forced myself to observe my surroundings and actually look at the world around me.

At that very moment, I grabbed a nearby pad and pen, scribbled a succinct message, and placed the piece of paper in my neighbor's mailbox.

I felt this 'thank you' note was well overdo. Anything that can keep Shannen Doherty (circa 1993) from emerging deserves all the appreciation they can get...

"But it helps me remember... and I need to remember... Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it, like my heart's going to cave in." - Ricky Fitts (American Beauty)

Versace on Sundays

2008-09-04T12:14:00.000-07:00

I've come to learn that Los Angeles isn't your typical chaotic city. The people here are their own breed of human. I kid you not! Folks here don't have the harsh cynicism of New Yorkers, the political savviness of our Nation's capital, and definitely don't have the pizazz of the people of Chicago. Instead, Los Angeles is a microcosm of something completely unreal. It's not exactly a "city", as it is Ken and Barbie's expanded dream house. Everywhere I turn, I'm bombarded by walking mannequins carrying their well-groomed Chihuahuas and traveling cappuccinos. Which, if you think about it, comes to no surprise seeing how a Bally's Fitness, tanning salon, and dental reconstruction office comes standard in every neighborhood.

Last Sunday, this epiphany became magnetized when I peered around the room of my Santa Monica church. Ordinarily, you'd expect God's house to be filled with yuppity, suited geriatrics and their middle-aged wives. Instead, the church was seated with undeniably gorgeous divorcees and their well-coiffed, 3rd fiances. It wasn't so much a Mass as it was a casting call for America's Next Top Model. Even the children obtained an air of youthful beauty. I glanced down at my brandless hoodie sweatshirt and my discounted Target jeans and became flooded with insecurities. I looked as though I stumbled out of Auschwitz. With sincere trepidation, I decided to stare straight ahead and focus solely on the Priest -- who, incidentally, was equally as stylish.

Once Church let out, I was left wondering if this realization was, in fact, fueled by my own uneasiness. Or was everyone in this city struggling with their own tailored insecurities? As I scanned the parking lot, I noticed these fashionistas/churchgoers cramming themselves into their Mercedes and BMW sedans. Why was this so intriguing to me? Was it jealousy that irked me? Perhaps. (Which is ironically a deadly sin...) Or was it something else? In the end, I decided to label this epiphany as an awakening. A much-needed slap in the face from my overly-analytical daze. As cheesy as it sounds, instead of focusing way too much on Los Angeles' designer exterior, I decided to concentrate on my own interior and perhaps dial down the judgements (especially in Church, right?).

In the end, as this California dissection faded, I came to one conclusion... Maybe this type of crowd isn't restricted only to Los Angeles. Maybe it's not even geographical. Maybe... just maybe, in a city so perfectly translated to "The City of Angels", I should just let go, let God, and as I walk through the streets filled with these perfectly walking mannequins.... simply enjoy the view.

Blast from the Past: Part 3

2008-08-28T21:15:00.001-07:00

When you're young, teetering on the edge of adolescence, the world is a glorious candy store. It seems like every Kids-R-Us you go to, every ice-cream parlor you visit, opportunity opens its door and you settle for nothing less but the best (well, in my mind at least). For me, it was the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle action figure – a challenging toy to attain might I add. Nothing in the world seemed more important. However, once I finally received the complete set of all four mutant turtles (and Splinter of course), I was left unsatisfied. Is affection much different? When it comes to relationships, when is it acceptable to accept that certain someone and feel satisfied? Are we willing to settle? Or, rather, are we always left wanting more?

Think about it, we live in an age where everything is available but not all of it is attainable. No matter how much you want that golden goose, it is almost impossible to get it from Mr. Wonka. However, in many of my friend’s cases, their primary goal isn’t the tasty chocolate, but, rather, Wonka's Willy….. don’t make me spell it out for you. Seriously, how do you know if a certain person is the ‘best’ possible person out there?

In my case, flirting is a talent I inconveniently lack. It seems almost impossible to talk to a guy I like…I suddenly become tongue tied. On the other hand, the people I’m naturally friendly to, the ones I only want to develop a friendship with, get the wrong idea and want to establish a relationship. It’s a vicious cycle out there; friends, relationships, fucking feelings. But wait, it doesn’t stop there. When I suddenly get the nerve to go on a date with someone I sincerely have feelings for, I have to subject myself to awkward, uncomfortable conversation. You know how those begin…. . “Wow, business. That’s an interesting major....” Is it worth it? Or do we have to force ourselves to be threatened when we're dating? A grueling process I like to call Intimi-dating.

As we reach adulthood, when relationships become an important element in our lives, it only seems to get more difficult. Life was so much easier when the only settlement we had to come to terms with was a simple toy. I guess all we can do now, as we turn our backs to our childhood, is embrace the moment, regret nothing, and appreciate the fact that we received the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle action figures in the first place.

A Night of Debauchery

2008-08-22T15:53:00.000-07:00

It's my personal belief that the greatest artists in the world create their masterpieces while shamelessly intoxicated. Da Vinci, David Lynch, The Beatles, Pollock.... all of them were definitely on something. Therefore, I thought it was finally time for me to bust out my artistic guns and go out shooting. Last weekend I went roaming the streets of West Hollywood (My camera in one hand. Tequila in the other.) and snapped quite stunning and influential photographs of my friends/models. I know what you're thinking... "Where did Eli get such an eye for amazing photography?? And while hammered no less?". Well, my friends, it just comes naturally I guess.

Alright, no more stalling. Without further ado... I present my art exhibition entitled:

A Night Of Debauchery.
A Story in Four Photographs

TITLE: The Token Female

SUMMARY: When life gets you down, go to a gay bar. When the gay bar gets you even more down, DRINK SOME MORE! Just don't forget your favorite gal pal to keep you company. P.S. She'll make a good beard too...

TITLE: The Homo Frame

SUMMARY: While inebriated, and walking carelessly in the streets, make sure you create a human frame. It's also Emmy's "what's up, sexy?" pose. She's the female Zoolander and just as ridiculously good-looooking.

TITLE: The Belly Laugh

SUMMARY: Honestly... they're just laughing because the other person was laughing. P.S. Lorenzo really isn't that funny. Well... personality-wise.

TITLE: Just Jamison

SUMMARY: Jamison created his signature "caught in the headlights" pose. Coincidentally, he was actually staring into oncoming headlights...... and that's how he died.

THE END

Let California Ring

2008-08-21T10:10:00.001-07:00

Before I get down and dirty, let me just preface this entry by advocating how much respect I have for this ad campaign. I'm a major supporter of gay marriage (obviously), and what I'm about to say means no disrespect for the purpose of the commercial. With that in mind, I have to ask... what the hell's up with the Let California Ring commercial?

First and foremost, it doesn't reveal hardly anything about gay marriage - which, undoubtedly, would confuse an objective onlooker. Second of all, it's a bit more humorous (to me, at least) than probably intended.

Here, see for yourself. Then I'm gonna break it down in good ole' Eli-fashioned commentary...

Timeline:
00:00 - The promo begins on a beautiful, slightly orange, Fall afternoon. The bride peers over her shoulder in complete happiness as the rambunctious flower girl prances around the bedroom. (The perfect day, right...?)

00:11 - ...Think again. As dad opens the door to walk the blushing bride down the aisle, the handle suddenly breaks! (He barely even turned it. Does he have superhero strength? And who the hell installed these door handles? I'm glad dad was able to pry open the outer frame with his Iron Man fingertips.)

00:19 - Suddenly, a slew of cars block the path to the altar. (Alright, who was on parking duty??! Damn it Uncle Jeffrey, you had one job to do!)

00:24 - After hiking up her skirt as if she were an extra from Moulin Rouge, she steps on the aluminum cans hooked onto her 'bride and groom' getaway car. (Wait. Who actually puts aluminum cans on the back of the cars anymore? It's not very environmentally friendly...)

00:27 - She broke her heel! Now she has to limp all the way down the damn aisle like Carrie Strug. (Girl, for crying out loud, take off your other shoe!)

00:35 - The tree vindictively snatches her veil from her head - as if the notion of ducking and sliding were impossible.

00:41 - That rambunctious flower girl strikes again! (Where is this girl's mother??? Please, someone get her some Ritalin stat!)

00:47 - Perhaps my favorite part of the entire commercial - grandma pulls a Tonya Harding and whacks the bride in the knee with her cane. (Let's be honest, bitch tripped her granddaughter on purpose. The motivation behind the attack remains under investigation.)

00:50 - Then, her fiance attempts to chase to her side, but is ultimately held back by the bridal party. (If that's not the rudest best man I've ever seen. "Your bride-to-be just ate shit, but you're not allowed to help her!" P.S. I'm pretty sure the Priest held him back too... so rude.)

Then, the commercial concludes with her sitting there in utter dismay. Although I think the commercial is hilarious, don't discount the message behind it. Gays and lesbians all over the United States are prevented from marriage which is completely ridiculous. Fortunately, California is currently legal. But for how long? Vote against Proposition 8!

After all, someday even I would like my grandmother to trip me with her cane...

Are you freakin' kidding me?

2008-08-14T11:04:00.000-07:00

Is he trying to give me a stroke? Cause me to go into a coma? Turn me prematurely gray? Put me into early menopause??? Jake Gyllenhaal, what are you doing to me? Since when have you become the sun all of us revolve around? Did you notice I write nothing but questions in the post?

How is he so gorgeous???????

I have nothing else to say.

P.S. It's from his new movie, Prince of Persia. All hail Jake and his Gyllenhaal.

A Television Dry Spell

2008-08-06T11:03:00.000-07:00

All I have to say is thank God for the Olympic games, because summer television is a big flamin' pile of bore! Normally, my TiVo would be crammed with Grey's Anatomy, Lost, Ugly Betty, hell even Oprah. Instead, I've succumbed to watching reruns of Tila Tequila (just kidding, I'd sooner scratch my eyes out, than subject myself to such torture).

However, I have encountered a show that's given me the TV fix to please my Prime Time addiction. So You Think You Can Dance's finale is tonight, and after watching all season, I can honestly say that I've never been so intrigued by the art of dance!

Therefore, I felt it necessary to list my personal top 5 dance numbers in Film. Yes, top 5. Quite the feat for a movie-musical junkie like myself. Without further ado...

5) Cell Block Tango - Chicago: Pop. Six. Squish. Ah ah. Cicero. LipShitz. Let's face it. Rob Marshall is the modern-day Bob Fosse. Granted, he didn't use any Fosse "techniques" in this movie-musical, but he made up for that with his unique vision. Hell, this dance sequence actually made me go spread eagle! I still don't understand how Roman Polanski beat Marshall for Best Director. Rob had that Oscar comin'... Personally, I think Polanski should be charged for another count of rape.

4) Singin' In The Rain - Singin' In The Rain: You really think I could make a 'top 5' about dance numbers, and exclude Gene Kelly. Girl, please. This is probably one of the most memorable and distinct moments in movie-musical history. When I was little, I used to put on my rain boots, head into the storm, and dance around the puddles singing this tune. (How embarrassing. I wonder what the neighbors thought....) Anyways, I just watched this movie again and I love it. What a wonderful feeling, I'm happy again!

3) El Tango de Roxanne - Moulin Rouge: Baz Luhrmann. Baz Luhrmann. Baz Luhrmann. Need I say more? The guy's a genius and has the vision of a Greek musical-theatre-loving god. This is, without a doubt, one of the most gut-wrenching sequences of the entire movie. Is it the song? Is it Nini Legs-in-the-Air's flawless performance? Is it Ewan McGregor's gorgeous voice? I'm gonna have to say 'D' (all of the above). Did I mention Baz Luhrmann?

2) Gym Scene - West Side Story: Mambo! One of the best stage-to-screen transfers in history if I do say so myself. The cast was superb (Why hello Rita Moreno). The direction was magnificent. The music... well, duh. It's no wonder why this film won Best Picture. Though, I couldn't decide between this scene and the prologue, so I flipped a coin... Anywho, I'm stoked WSS is making it's way back to Broadway (welcome home!). I think it'll transfer just fine. And if not, we'll always have the movie. Mambo!

1) The Aloof/The Heavyweight/The Big Finish - Sweet Charity: If I were a betting woman in Vegas, I'd lay down 6-1 that Bob Fosse would be voted #1 of the 'best movie-musical directors' of all time. Granted, he only has a few films under his sequins dance belt. However, they're remarkable films (i.e. Cabaret, Liza with a Z, All That Jazz!). Therefore, this scene is my favorite (see below) and with Fosse's amazing choreography, I'd consider it historical.

Yes, I know I've left off countless of other dance sequences (Everything from Fred Astaire, Ginger Rogers, Flashdance, hell, I even put baby in her corner) But I only had 5 spots to fill! I guarantee you, this list could probably go on for days.... All the while dancing, of course.

Happy Birthday to ME

2008-08-01T08:19:00.001-07:00

Another year older. Another gorgeous man to celebrate my 24th festivities with. It's been a year since moving to Los Angeles and it's only just begun. I know he's historic, but doesn't the young Gregory Peck make you crave red velvet birthday cake with vanilla ice cream on the side? It sure does for me.

Somebody grab me a fork!

Ur So Gay

2008-07-28T15:28:00.001-07:00

A song hitting the airwaves has been giving me a red rump lately. Before moving forth, I advise you listen to the following video. Take in the lyrics. Soak them in. Let them flood over you like a vodka tonic. (While you do that, I'm gonna actually go pour myself a vodka tonic...).

Now that you've watched it, let's talk about it. I'm not sure if I'm offended or amused. At first glimpse, I was slightly peeved because this hetero chick deemed herself credible enough to pin-point characteristics she considered gay. Unless she's actually Mannie the Tranny, where does she come off stereotyping the gays? On top of that, she uses the term "gay" as if it's an insult for her "boyfriend". Ordinarily, my sudden knee-jerk liberal reaction would be instantly insulted.

However, that being said, I must confess that the more I listen to the song (catchy tune aside), the more it cracks me up. Not because it's particularly funny, but because the lyrics actually relate to me! Mannie the Tranny got it right (for me). Yes, I love H&M. I listen to Mozart and classical music. I hate Los Angeles with a passion and sporadically read Hemingway. I, too, am a vegetarian who aspires to own a hybrid. And I listen to indie rock and never go a day without applying my SPF 45. Should I really go on...?

Do I apologize for any of this? No. Am I ashamed of what I like? Not in the slightest. But I wouldn't say any of the aforementioned interests are "gay" (BTW, whatever happened to the classic 'musical theatre' references and 'fashion' stereotypes? ... which I incidentally enjoy as well). I know tons of straighties who are vaginatarians and bitch about LA. This song isn't as much a "homophobic stereotype" as it is a ridiculous generalization.

However, when it all comes down to it (based solely on her lyrics), I will admit that I identify with Katy Perry's "gay" boyfriend. Hey, maybe I am Katy Perry's "gay" boyfriend.... After all, I AM gay...

... but I do like boys.

My REAL Friends

2008-07-22T14:24:00.001-07:00

Los Angeles. The land of the perpetual celebrity encounter. I figured moving to the heart of the entertainment industry, I would get my inevitable fair share of star sightings. Celebs flock to every restaurant, grocery store, and clothing boutique throughout the city. Apparently my church is no exception (even multi-millionaire actors need prayer). Just this past year I've seen Vanessa Williams, Martin Short, the hot guy from Love Actually, and the Governor himself. However, nothing on Earth could prepare me for my current encounter.

Let's start from the very beginning. After work, I was invited to dinner at one of West Hollywood's most happening gay Mexican Cafes (because there are so many of them...). Beforehand, I thought I'd get in the MexiCAN mood with not one, not two, but three margaritas. Anyways, as we got down to fajita business, guess who I spot... Monica Gellar herself (Courtney Cox Arquette!). I let it slide at first (I'm not a person who interrupts people at dinner or cocktail hour). However, I couldn't let this opportunity whither and die.

Thanks to margarita number four, I calmly approached her only to discover that David Arquette had joined her. I didn't want to be fan-boy, so I simply apologized for interrupting their evening, acknowledged that I loved their work (hello! Friends AND Scream!), and they both graciously shook my hand.

This may all seem mediocre (at best) since we all can agree that they're just people. However, I'm not sure you understand how die-hard a Friends fan I am. I know the episodes forwards and backwards and can quote the show on a whim. Courtney Cox made my night. Now I just have five more Friends to go...

X Courtney Cox

Matthew Perry
Lisa Kudrow
David Schwimmer
Jennifer Anniston
Matt LeBlanc

Blast from the Past: Part 2

2008-07-14T22:12:00.000-07:00

Having lived in Los Angeles for nearly a year, I've become quite

observant with the "breed" of men we have out here. Granted, I haven't had an "inside look" with any specific guy (I'm a lady!). I have, however, noticed that the "genuine nice guy" isn't really easy to cum by these days. Especially when you live in this material world, where most gays are material girls...

Our planet is continually changing, causing habitats to be altered and modified. Natural changes tend to occur at a gradual pace, usually causing only a slight impact on individual species. However, when changes occur at a fast pace, there is little or no time for individual species to react and adjust to new circumstances – thus creating the endangered species. The brightest conservationists in the world have striven to stop the endangerment of an array of species – the bald eagle, the panther, and just recently in the ‘lovely’ city of Los Angeles…..the ‘nice guy’. Is this rare breed just a distant desire for the few singletons out there? Or are we just left to wonder what just exactly Bonnie Tyler was singing about…..just where have all the good guys gone?

Granted, living in the epicenter of Los Angeles, you are bound to run into the dominate creature. I invite you on an intense animal hunt with me. Let’s observe, shall we???

First off, the conceited-trendy boy. Look how his metro-sexualness enhances his outer-shell. No longer can we see his natural personality, but rather, a completely new character is exhibited. His blue-colored contacts are blinding. His recently spray-on-tan is fierce. But most of all, beware of his cockiness - a trait many people at this university have - this feature allows him to make many feel inferior. (PROTECTION: Don’t look directly at them. Hopefully, this will deteriorate their confidence and kill them!)

Next, the skater-boi. Let’s watch as this dreadful breed skateboards through the crowds while attempting to balance correctly and hold onto his pants. Like the conceited-trendy boy, his confidence is unshaken and nothing on earth can break him ----- never mind, as we see, skater-boi is down and has just fallen off his skateboard. (PROTECTION: Laugh and point whenever they fall!)

Lastly, the bad-ass. This breed is severely dangerous. Nothing on earth can frighten them. Watch as he slouches on the bench, relaxing under the scorching sun, as a glistening light reflects off his designer sun-glasses. It’s summer, and not even the horrendous heat of a leather jacket and a blazed-cigarette can harm this man. He’s fearless and will, most definitely, frighten small children. (PROTECTION: Do NOTHING! Hopefully, the sun itself will kill him.)

Seriously though, as we see here, and around the city on a daily basis, there are very few nice-guys out there. Is it possible to find someone who is genuinely nice? Or, rather, are we just looking for a needle in a gay-stack? In either case, I’m going to remain optimistic. And for those who believe that they are, in fact, a nice person – well, we’ll just have to create our own herd and, with hopeful change in the future, adjust to new circumstances.

Jennifer Fucking Hudson

2008-07-11T16:13:00.000-07:00

Favorite. Diva. Ever. I'm hooked on her new song and I'm convinced she's here to stay. I was weary her presence would last passed her debut performance. However, with her vocals from Sex and the City: The Movie and the aforementioned single, she has ALL the goods.

Girl can SING! How Fantasia beat J. Hud on American Idol, I'll never know...

Death Sees a Therapist

2008-07-08T13:18:00.000-07:00

Is it me, or do people jump the gun and resort to therapy too quickly nowadays? Seriously! Since when has psychiatry been the hot new trend? I feel as though the "head-doctor" goes hand-in-hand with skinny jeans and Cosmo martinis (mmm, Cosmopolitans). I admit, I've been tempted to make a few appointments myself. I'm incidentally always in my head... What? You have a problem with that?!

Any-ways, I opt to adjust naturally and use self-remedies to calm my mental nerves. Think about it... Every day, we immerse ourselves in 'at-home activities' that alleviate any stress we have bubbling up within our lives. Whether it be writing in a journal (blog?), washing the dishes, vacuuming, meditation, etc., we seem to cure any mental strain ourselves. No leather couches. No invasive questions. No therapist.

In all actuality, it's probably just the "private things" we do behind closed doors that really calm us down. And no, I'm not talkin' masturbation (Which, albeit, helps a little). I'm talking about the things we do when nobody's watchin'.

For example:

- I take lengthy, steamy showers while listening to Josh Groban.

- I light aroma-therapy candles and "clean up" my eyebrows (manscape if you will).

- I moisturize, while watching TV on DVD (currently The Office).

I'm tellin' you, it works. Anyways, I just can't wrap my head around this new craze. Perhaps everyone needs to find their own ways to mentally adjust. Personally, my friends can talk circles around any shrink. However, that being said, who am I to decide what's best for anyone else. If a therapist is in the stars for you... godspeed. Me? I'll stick to my own self-remedies. I mean, who needs professional help when you've got Steve Carrell?

Where in the World is Matt Lauer? Seriously.

2008-07-01T14:27:00.000-07:00

Pile on the mash potatoes and give me a double serving of mac & cheese, Matt Lauer is one hot Oldie McHottie. Starchy hot.

Don't forget the cornbread.

Blast from the Past: Part 1

2008-06-28T09:16:00.000-07:00

So I was organizing my computer files, and I came across blogs I used to write in the hay-day of my college years. I thought it'd be fun to create a series (Blast from the Past) sharing my older writings. Be warned, I had just begun watching Sex and the City, so my entries reflected that...

THE FIRST ENTRY

The life of the theatre - opening nights, glistening spotlights, dozens of flowers strewn across the stage as the audience gives the performers a standing ovation. Seems perfect - enchanting even. However, the life of the theatre MAJOR is a much different experience. Let's recap, shall we? Opening night cast parties consisting of vomiting (not that talented) actors, over dramatic situations which require professional help, and more 'technical difficulties' I care to encounter. In college, within the realms of the Theatre Arts, I can't help but wonder.....how much drama is too much drama?

Forget the show....that's irrelevant. It's the cast parties that contain the REAL performances. In fact, the show doesn't really start till the curtain closes. Then it's all about the drama freaks...and do I mean freaks. It's like a sexual 'Where's Waldo'....can you spot the straights or the gays? It's doubtful, because once you enter the doors of this over-dramatic party, it's all men for themselves. Suddenly the straights become bi, the gays become straight, and there are those elicit few that have no sex-pinion (a man who I'd like to call Mr. Asexual).

How much drama can somebody take? Isn't it possible to check the drama at the door aside your new suede jacket? Or, rather, does this come with the major? It's too late for most of them - they've been lost to the dark side (or in gay lingo - Magenta side). However, I believe there are those select few that can save themselves. Those who don't need the word 'cast' in 'cast party' - and just want to party and have fun. Seriously people, let's stick together. Then, as a resolution to this overbearing drama, we can pay the cash to see the show and not expect anymore performances later in the night.

What a GAY Weekend

2008-06-24T12:32:00.000-07:00

What. A. Weekend. Let me tell you, I've went from underground hermit to "social" butterfly in a matter of minutes. Not exactly by choice, but I finally have shaken-up my increasingly mundane life, traveled beyond my remote control and into the light of day (Or night...)

Friday night, I opted to enter the epicenter of the L-gAy hot spot. The place where homos flock towards to meet (meat?) other eyeliner wearing, Madonna-listening men for a random night hook up. More commonly known as the Los Angeles gay bar.

Upon entering, I was initially blind sighted by the array of exceedingly attractive guys at the bar. The bodies were flawless. The bleach teeth were blinding. Naturally, I decided that the more alcohol I consumed, the better I'd feel about myself.

How wrong was I! Instead, my insecurities became intensified and I regrettably started seeing double. Now instead of, say, 5 gorgeous Abercrombie & Fitch models. I saw 10...

Unfortunately, any hint of class dissipated and my motor skills became obsolete. In fact, I think I left half my Vodka cranberry on a guy's pressed Diesel jeans. I was mortified. Was I a hot mess? Yes. Bitchy gay? No. That specific role was filled by 95% of the patrons. Prior to my spillage, I noticed that EGO was the primary source of energy in the room, and if you didn't fit into the preconceived "hot guy" notion then they'd definitely let you know.

I know, I shouldn't let my first gay bar excursion hinder any future outings, but I think I need to take it slow... like a virgin (There. A Madonna reference. Does that get me any closer to Queenville?) Or simply, I just need to ease my way into this new crowd, so I don't feel completely out of place. A gaylien in this narcissistic (queer) universe.

In the meantime, I'm not sure how soon I'll jump back on the saddle. I'm like Puxatony Phil. I went out. I saw my shadow. I'll see you next Winter.

Mending A Broken Heart

2008-06-13T11:47:00.000-07:00

I know, I know. I've been MIA for nearly two weeks! My worried family members have sent out search parties. Police dogs have scoured my neighborhood. My horrendous license photo has been plastered on every (soy)milk carton in the San Fernando Valley!

No need to worry. I've finally pressured myself to come out of hiding. I wish I could say I've been off traveling the world with Anne Hathaway's hot brother, Michael. But it's just not true. I've basically just been really busy with life stuff (ugh, life. Who needs it?).

A new roommate has moved in (bringing her cute - and obese - cat named Cosmopolitan), I've made great strides with my first feature screenplay (box office bomb?), and I've been putting out wildfires all over the place.

One of my dearest/gayest friend has been going through a gayxestential crisis (I like to throw the word 'gay' anywhere possible and call it witty writing. So?). Anyways, he just separated from his short-lived love-fest of '08 and is going through the oh-so-attractive self-loathing phase. We've all been there. Incidentally, when he and a love interest split ways, he just pretends they die. Therefore, the self-loathing phase is actually a 'mourning' phase.... may he rest.

I've compiled the top 5 necessities needed to get anyone through a broken heart:

5: Ben and Jerry's Cookie Dough Ice Cream. May I suggest a pint and not a gallon? Just because a man has emotionally back-slapped you, does not mean your thighs should pay the consequences.

4: The Devil Wears Prada. The only way not to be a bitch to your ex-lover, is to watch a bunch of bitches being bitches to each other. (Could I have used the word 'bitch' more?)

3: Barricade Yourself. Nobody going through a break-up wants to run into happy, peppy people roaming the streets (unless you're running into them with your car). Stay inside. Shut the shades. Disappear.

2: Buy LOTS of cats. That's right, I said it. LOTS OF THEM! You'll need the company (see number 3). Plus, you can name them all hot boy names so when anyone calls, you can say "Oh, I can't go out tonight, Brad needs me."

1: FRIENDS! Lord knows you can't live without them. They're always there for you and will never disappoint. Not to mention, it's almost guaranteed Chandler will make you laugh.

Now don't fret. You have the guide to recognizing your depression. In no time, you'll be better than new and out of that dreaded mourning phase.

Now, if you'll excuse me. I must attend my friend's ex-boyfriend's wake...

You May Kiss the Husband

2008-05-28T14:17:00.000-07:00

A new gay icon has emerged from the crevices. Okay, maybe not the "crevices", but she has at least emerged from the depths of the gay friendly film (The Devil Wears Prada and Brokeback Mountain). Anne Hathaway has always been one of my fave actresses. Ever since sporting a heinous wig, wire-rimmed glasses, and shouting "I have to wear a TIARA!?". Now, she's an advocate for change and equal opportunity proponent for the LGBT community. God love her.

More importantly, she's a strong supporter for her older, gay brother, Michael (pictured above). Incidentally.... so am I. I support Michael as a mighty fine, attractive, and potential husband for ME. Even though some deluded divas would protest otherwise. Mexi, please. He's my Snickers candy bar.

...mashed up in Vanilla ice cream.

...with chocolate and carmel syrup drenched on top.

...and strawberries......

Anyways....
For some shits and giggles, check out a trailer for Anne's new thriller.

The Best Medicine

2008-05-18T17:21:00.001-07:00

No doubt about it, I'm a HUGE fan of the 'prank'. In fact, random strangers automatically assume I'm the youngest sibling because apparently I have the personality of "the baby" (What exactly about me screams 'mischievous'?). However, I also find playful banter and harmless teasing endearing and completely necessary to keep any friendship and/or relationship alive. It's those tightly-wound bitches that usually shit a brick when they're exposed to any insignificant or microscopic prank (you know who you are!). I could never date someone like that. Any relationship I'm involved in has to be playful and casual (a la. Jim and Pam from The Office). Save the conventional and conservative rendezvous for Palm Springs. I want something more.

Therefore, when I was cruising the net, I came across an amazing home video. Apparently, this husband/wife duo have an ongoing joke they play on each other. Having watched it repeatedly, I'm convinced that my aforementioned epiphany proves true. It's the small, loving jokes and pranks between couples that really make the relationship work.

Dancing Machine

Delicioso

2008-05-14T14:58:00.000-07:00

Is it me, or does Devil Wears Prada fan, Mexican't, and E! assistant extraordinaire make you want to crush viagra, sprinkle it on seasoned lamb, add some cheddar, and stuff it all in a pita pocket?

Lorenzo (formerly known as Larz... more commonly known as Lawrence - damn, this boy has had more names than Prince)... anyways, Lorenzo has three passions in life: the menz, international pop sensations, and when people find time to post blogs about him. Therefore, I thought it pertinent to post one of Lorenzo's better pictures and share ever inch of cellulite to the world. I do this out of love..

Konichiwa bitches.

...5, 6, 7, 8

2008-05-08T13:13:00.000-07:00

Throughout my entire day-dreamin' life, I've always had unspoken, microscopic (and a tad unrealistic) dreams which were far too embarrassing to reveal. You know... the dreams that only actually ever occur in the subconscious. Everyone has them! Mine include a telekinetic revelation (sans the bloody Prom), discovering a million dollars in a nearby dumpster (et. al. 'Blank Check'), and having a secret love affair with a gynormous movie star (If only...).

However, none of these "dreams" can compare to my ultimate dream. Maybe I've been watching too many musicals, but how cool would it be to randomly break out in an elaborate dance? I'm not talkin' a 'crazy-person breakdance' seen exclusively at the Santa Monica promenade. But a fully choreographed, ultimately rehearsed routine with 20+ folks. Nothing would please me more! Unfortunately, LAiens are far too jaded to even consider tapping a foot, let alone a dance sequence. Fine! Until then, I'll always have my dreams.... and my secret movie star affair...

For those still confused of what I'm talking about --

(If only...).

An Apology to Diablo

2008-04-30T19:51:00.000-07:00

There's a point when reality and make-believe collide, and that point occurred at about 3:10pm today. Today, I regrettably posted a DiaBlog that outlined various inaccurate occurrences that were falsely revealed to me from a friend. Immediately, I figured since Diablo's a public figure, her business should be public as well. I was wrong.

This afternoon, various people (including Diablo herself) instant messaged me to set the record straight. While many people would be elated by Diablo's pop-up message, I was filled with yuppie guilt. (side note: I realize, this "messenger" could have been some concerned fan posing as Diablo Cody. However, enough people were concerned that an apology was definitely in order). I cannot apologize enough for succumbing to my own selfish (albeit, stupid) needs and revealing way too much. I should have known better. I understand Diablo's not an actual "friend" (I'm just another face in the myspace-friend crowd. I don't fool myself otherwise). However, she is a human friggin' being and shouldn't have to be subjected to any unnecessary and unsubstantial gossip (from her alleged "fan", no less). So, I'm really really sorry Diablo.

That being said, I'm completely surprised Perez Hilton sleeps at night. I felt like shit afterwards, and I could never do this kind of "journalism" for a living. I've totally learned my lesson.

P.S. If it's any consolation, as I drove home from work this evening, a trucker hocked a loogie and spat on my windshield. If this isn't an open and closed case of karmic retribution, I don't know what is.

My apologies.

Always a bridesmaid...

2008-04-28T11:31:00.000-07:00

So I'm rummaging through one of my fave celeb-gossip sites, and I stumble upon this. My husband (T.R. Knight) walking his bitch. And their dog too.

I'm très upset. This picture makes me want to stick my finger down my throat and purge the Chorizo remnants into my hamper.

A Whole Lot of Nakey

2008-04-18T15:59:00.000-07:00

Let's be honest, the buzz surrounding Forgetting Sarah Marshall has nothing to do with the supposedly hilarious script, the creative advertising, not even Judd Apatow. Really, people high and low are flocking towards theatres to catch a glimpse of Jason Segal's who-haw. His willy nilly. His gadunkajunk. Apparently nudity in film is the new black (vagina is SO last year). In reality, the theatre screen will only make it appear THAT much bigger... Let's just hope the room's not too cold.

The question remains, what do we think of Segal himself? Do we want to bake him in the oven, stick him on some skewers, and serve him with cooked peppers, tomatoes, and onions? Or do we merely just want to snatch him from a drive-thru and smear him with Heinz ketchup?

My Tranny Top Ten

2008-04-15T12:16:00.000-07:00

All this coverage on this pregnant man hasn't only intrigued America, but it has really sparked controversy and awareness on the idea of gender association. Whereas I think it's perfectly acceptable (who hasn't dressed in drag and performed 'The Cell Block Tango' at a charity event? ...No? So just me?), many people question if this "confusion" is appropriate for the mass media. Oh please, as if your son isn't in the other room trying on jewelry as we speak. Anyways, I'm here to make a rebuttal. The idea of gender has always been the subject of very popular movies. Therefore, I wanted to create a Top Ten List of my personal favorite gendertastic performances. - Transvestites, transsexuals, and cross dressers, oh my!

10) TransAmerica (Bree) - How could I make a list of amazing gender-bending performances and not include Felicity Huffman's honest and genuine performance as Bree. Not only did the physical transformation garner the Desperate Housewife an Oscar Nomination, but it also created awareness of gender identity and acceptance. That being said, who remembers that mesmerizing scene when Bree takes a leak and her son mistakenly observes more than anticipated in the rear view mirror...?

9) Mrs. Doubtfire (Mrs. Euphegenia Doubfire) - "It was a drive by fruiting". Arguably one of the funniest classics of my generation. Ordinarily, I wouldn't categorize Mrs. Doubtfire as a classic, however since this movie was released during the hay-day of my childhood, it deserves that title. It was the first time I was exposed to a man-turned-woman in a film. While he didn't necessarily win in the end, he definitely proved that gender is merely an illusion that can essentially be altered and distorted. Not to mention, Robin Williams proved once again that he can conquer any and all roles...including ones with a vagina.

8) Psycho (Norman Bates) - Okay, so this example doesn't really give the lightest or friendliest representation of cross dressing. However, it's difficult to deny that it's definitely one of the most memorable. Show of hands... who feared taking a shower after watching this film? Okay, good amount. Now another show of hands... who dressed up as their mother and sat in a rocking chair every evening thereafter? ...No? So just me?

7) The Birdcage (Albert Goldman) - I have a threat to make: Diane Sawyer, you better watch your back 'cause I'm coming after your husband! Okay, that sounds more freaky than intended. But I'm completely in love with Mike Nichol's talents. Not only did he create one of the best gay comedies ever, he helped create a character (played Nathan Lane) that moved beyond gender "normality" and forward into a more socially acceptable way of creating movies.

6) Hedwig and the Angry Inch (Hedwig) - Um, just look at the picture and you'll know why she made the list. John Cameron Mitchell created a sincere rock-diva who possessed the confidence and sense of self that made the movie so great. That being said, is it rude to admit that every time I see the movie, I think I'm watching Courtney Love on screen? I'm sorry, but CL has the demeanor and physical appearance of a tran-tran. Yet, she doesn't possess the charisma, heart, and beyotchness that Hedwig does (well, maybe the beyotchness). But then again, who does?

5) Boys Don't Cry (Brandon Teena) - Need I say more? Hillz Swank, better known as Kimberly Hannah from Buffy The Vampire Slayer, totally conquered this role. There's a reason why she garnered her first Best Actress Oscar. Any girl who can convincingly shove a sock down her pants and stand her ground deserves all the praise she can get. In all reality though, the story of Brandon Teena is truly heartbreaking and I'm sincerely glad that the Swank can pay homage to him.

4) Tootsie (Dorothy Michaels) - I can't tell if Dustin Hoffman looks more like my Aunt Maggie in this picture or Stockard Channing (circa '78). Either way, I can tell you that Hoffman hits it out of the park with this performance. However, like Mrs. Doubtfire, this film focuses on a man's sheer desperation that eventually pushes him to do drag. If anything, Dorothy is merely going "undercover" to further his acting career. In the process, a feeling of self-discovery emerges. (Tranny, fierce, you better work!)

3) Hairspray (Edna Turnblad) - I know what you're thinking: "Eli, I thought last year's movie-musical was one of your favorite films of 2007. Why didn't you choose Travolta?") The reason I chose Divine's performance was because she created that role. She's the Drag QUEEN of John Water's films and she completely stands out in each of them. Besides, Travolta was a little too Muppet for my taste.

2) The Rocky Horror Picture Show (Dr. Frank-N-Furter) - "I'm just a sweet transvestite, from Transsexual Transylvania". Tim Curry probably didn't realize he would create such an iconic tranny figure. Instead, he probably thought, "just another day in my leather corset and 5 inch stilettos". Oh, how wrong he was. Midnight performances of this film are filled with Frank-N-Furter wannabes shouting, " How do you do? I see you've met my faithful handyman." By far, one of the most memorable Transsexual performances ever. Okay, one of the few Transsexual performances ever. But still...

1) Some Like It Hot (Josephine and Daphne) - In my personal opinion, this is one of the best comedies ever written, but that is very much debatable. What isn't debatable is that this prolific film paved the way for all gender-bending films. Not only was Some Like It Hot way ahead of its time, but Tony Curtis and Jack Lemmon give well-acted and hilarious performances well beyond their years. And let's be honest, if two dudes dressed like divas can hold their own against actress/porn star Marilyn Monroe, then the film has to be great.

All in all, I'm extremely thankful that socially accepting films like these have been made, and are continuing being made in this industry. In time, perhaps our nation will follow suit.

My Betrothed...

2008-04-06T22:42:00.000-07:00

Of course he doesn't know it yet, but Cameron Johnson from Oprah's Big Give and I are getting married. A lot of my friends always ask what my type is and I never can answer that question because I didn't think I had one. I stand corrected. Cameron (seems like he) possesses the charisma, intelligence, ambition, and looks to become partners with (And I ain't talkin' business). I know what you're thinking, "Eli, you obsessive, guy-crazed stalker. Are you a 14-year-old girl? Why not meet guys in the bathroom stalls of gay clubs like normal homos?" I'm sorry, the heart wants what it wants. Give me time. We'll be married in 5 years top.

P.S. He makes me want to brown him in a pan and stuff him in a taco shell with cheese, lettuce, and extra sour cream. (Which incidentally was my dinner tonight).

Retraction: If you saw last Sunday's Big Give, you caught a glimpse of Cameron's "girlfriend". I refuse to believe it though.

New Gal on the Block

2008-04-04T15:31:00.000-07:00

Every so often, a female singer comes along and suddenly catches my heart. Terra Naomi hasn't arrived there just yet, but we're merely at the second date stage (dinner and a movie). I have a feeling things will progress, but right now we're taking it slow. We haven't even slept with each other yet!

I wouldn't want to rush things... I did that with Feist, and we're not talking right now.

Sex and the Valley

2008-04-01T10:00:00.000-07:00

Last night, in the midst of my peaceful slumber, I was awaken by a faint moaning coming from the apartment building immediately adjacent to my house. A scream that echoed through my backyard, eerily increasing in volume. Naturally, I thought someone was being murdered or brutally tortured. Instead, it was quite the opposite. Apparently a very erotic couple neglected to shut their window, because this duo was loudly (and quite effectively) getting their sex on.

At first, I thought it pertinent to shout "quiet down bitches I'm trying to sleep!". However, a very giving feeling washed over my annoyed (albeit, slightly jealous) self. I decided to live and let live, and allow them to be as loud as they want. That's what makes me so nice.

In honor of my sex neighbors, I'd like to leave you with this amazing song, appropriate for this exact situation. Enjoy!

Fuck That Movie!

2008-03-25T12:10:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I took the liberty of treating myself to a movie....alone. Most people would view that as a sad, pathetic, and incredibly loserish act. Not I. I bought myself popcorn, sat in the middle of the row, kicked my feet up and watched the Will Smith blockbuster I Am Legend. Fuck that movie! Okay, although it was a well-made movie, I went in having absolutely no idea what to expect. I was under the preconceived notion that this movie was about a man wandering the desolate streets of New York. Nope! Suddenly zombies kept popping up to and fro scaring the bejesus out of me. Fuck that movie! I spilt my popcorn twice, covered my eyes, and nearly wet myself. Fine, I admit the damn movie has been out for a solid 3 months, so I should have known better. But in my defense, the combination of a cute dog and an A-List star has always proved wholesome and delightful for me (et al. Tom Hanks in You've Got Mail, the upcoming Marley & Me with Owen Wilson, Legally Blonde!). Not I Am Legend. Fuck That Movie! Thereafter, the nightmares ensued, the zombie faces haunted me in my bedroom, and don't even get me started on that poor dog.

Fuck. That. Movie.

P.S. I give it 3 1/2 stars...

The New Work Visa

2008-03-17T13:12:00.000-07:00

Unfortunately, traffic in Los Angeles is inevitable. It comes with the territory. It's that annoying side of coleslaw that comes with your burger (you don't ask for it, but it's always there). Therefore, us LA-iens have a lot of time to think while driving. I know, thinking isn't always the safest on the Los Angeles roads, but it sure beats the hell out of texting, reading, and/or putting on make-up, right? Anyways, while I was thinking I came up with a 5-point plan to sift those city-clogging thousands that easily lift right out. No, I'm not talking about immigration issues. I'm talkin' worse! The aspiring industry "professional". You know, the (aspiring) actor. The (aspiring) writer. The (aspiring) filmmaker. As the years go on, the city increasingly becomes a competitive battle ground - any one of us willing to hold an Uzi to someone up for the same role or job.

Therefore, I propose this: The Industry Visa.....okay, hear me out. People flock to this city with the sheer determination to make it in the film industry. They recount the days when they impersonated their favorite film characters in their bedroom. Or, like me, grabbed their parent's run-down video cameras and pretended they were the next Spielberg. The sad truth is, only a sliver of those big-dreaming children will actually smash through the Hollywood walls. Rarely does passion, talent, and opportunity meet. Mazeltov if it does, but if it doesn't, how long should that person wait until changing life plans?

What if, instead of continuously attempting to gain access into the professional actors club, you're given five years (FIVE. No more, no less.) to make something happen for yourself. If within those five years, you're fortunate enough to move forward into your career, your Visa is extended (If not made permanent depending on the role). If, by the end of those five years, that person still hasn't had any luck, their Visa would expire and they would leave Los Angeles.

Oh stop. Don't think of me as some horrible monster. It makes perfect sense and unless you've experienced living in this city amongst the heavy traffic, you'll never understand. In any case, I'd make that gamble. If nothing happens (and I mean nothin'), I'll have to strategize my next step and, with hope, have better luck in the next chapter.

Here's prayin' it doesn't come down to that...

Something in the Oven

2008-03-14T11:40:00.001-07:00

How hot is Oprah's Big Give host and designer Nate Berkus? I'd like to roll him out, sprinkle him with flour, lay him in a pan, and put him in the oven at about 425 degrees for a mere 40-50 minutes please.

Then add sliced apples for flavor ;)

Fierce

2008-03-10T11:17:00.000-07:00

Project Runway is one of my favorite, if not the favorite, reality show on television. So you can imagine my excitement when I learned that this season's winner Christian will be fronting his own show on Bravo. Check out this preview

"Hillavita"

2008-03-05T12:21:00.000-08:00

Within the past few weeks, I've noticed a very suspicious coincidence that has been looming in this presidential primary race. And no, I'm not referring to McCain's wife's botched botox. I'm speaking of the uncanny similarities between Hillary Clinton and Eva Perón. Make no mistake, I'm a humongo fan of B-Rack too, but I can't help but notice that Hillz' tough leadership skills mirrors that of Evita!

Item #1: The appearance. Are you telling me, that the golden locks and pale skin is a mere coincidence? I think not. Their likeness - everything from their stern body movement to their articulate speeches - is strong evidence suggesting that a true leader exists.

Item #2: The husband. Long before Bill, Juan Perón was a political figure in Argentina (please refrain from busting out the Evita soundtrack: "What's new, Buenos Aires?"). Like Hillary, Eva was a prominent figure in her husband's campaign. And although Bill had his sexual-escapading flaws, Juan wasn't necessarily portrayed as a saint - he was unjustly imprisoned.

Item #3: Running for Office. In 1951, Evita set her sights on earning a place on the ballot as a candidate for vice-president. In fact, she was encouraged by everyone. Sound familiar?? Like Hillary, Evita soon received the nation's support. Yet, eventually declined the nomination. (uh oh...)

I will concede for a brief moment and admit that Evita was probably better liked than Hillary Clinton. That being said, I'm confident Hillz has the sure-fire determination, iron fist, and political knowledge to run the White House. Yet the question remains: Like Evita, can Hillary prove to be the electable candidate as well as the "Spiritual Leader of the Nation"?

Only time will tell.

And the train wreck goes to...

2008-02-25T13:42:00.000-08:00

What a lackluster year for the Academy Awards. If it wasn't for my hetero lover and Marion Cotillard winning, I'd have thrown myself out the window. Okay, it wasn't that terrible. It had it's moments (Amy Adams, 'Once' performance, many of the presenters almost eating shit on stage). Another highlight (or low light depending on how you look at it) was the best and worst dressed of the night.

On that note, my picks...

WORST DRESSED:

5. Make no mistake, I have a non-describable (if not a tad inappropriate) love affair with Julie Christie. She is without a doubt the most gorgeous Oldie McHottie on the market. But even screen legends need a little fashion advice. Her ruffle-rut would look aiight if those ghasstly flesh-eating gloves weren't taking over her arm. Nevertheless, she's still purtty. Although I thought Marion deserved the Oscar (slightly) more, Christie was a talented little bitch in Away from Her.

4. ...and I am telling you, I'm not impressed. In fact, I'm a little distraught. I understand J. Hud needs to turn heads and scout for attention, but this dress is a sack full of nasty-ass (to be fair, she is attracting attention). However, it doesn't flatter her figure in the slightest. You'd think after last year's pitfall, she'd have learned her lesson. Um, no. Instead, she decided to one up herself.

3. I know what you're thinking - "you unloyal POS fan". Okay, before you run towards me with pitchforks and hatchets, this hideous lapse of fashion judgement does not (I repeat does NOT) alter my loving perception of her. She's still my Diablo and I heart her anyways (despite her hard-on for leopard print). I just wish she looked more Glamorous Hollywood for her deserved Oscar win, and less Jungle Fever. All that's missing is her Boa Constructor (or rather, feather Boa?).

2. I reaally don't want to talk about it! Despite Daniel Day Lewis's talent, his "style" remains unfortunately consistent. Apparently fashion and performance don't necessarily go hand in hand. However, the worst part about this disaster zone is his accessory (my apologies Ms. Lewis). My attention was directed at her shoulders, then my eyes worked downwards (Jeweled broaches and all) till my corneas burned out. At least they're still cute together and boy can he act!

1. Tilda Swinton, where do you get these ideas? Yet, does this really surprise anybody? She was my personal pick for Supporting Actress, but that doesn't mean her performance inspired much confidence for her "fashion taste". It looks as though she stomped on over to the nearest fabric store, grabbed a couple yards of charcoal colored velvet and wrapped it around herself. I dunno, maybe she was cold. In any case, I'm glad she won. It was well deserved. God love her.

BEST DRESSED:

To me, the best dressed of the night needs no explanation. They simply need to be stared at for all eternity, and learned from by the aforementioned train wrecks.

5. Cameron Diaz

4. Heidi Klum

3. Laura Linney

2. Jennifer Garner

1. Penelope Cruz

Oscar Post

2008-02-23T13:41:00.001-08:00

Forget Christmas, Oscar season is the happiest time of the year. With a fantastic film line-up and note-worthy performances, we have approached the weekend of all weekends. The Superbowl of filmmaking. The award shows that make every other awards telecast look like the People's Choice Awards (Oh stop, the shows ghastly). The Academy Awards are here, and after a brief moment of nonexistence (due to the lovely Writers Strike), they're happening TOMORROW.

As of now, I have my picks of who I think are gonna win (do you have yours?), but I'm mostly interested in the fashion aspect around the corner (Everyone and their Uncle Joes are laying down their lists). Fashion-wise, I can almost predict the inevitable. Of the Best Actresses, Julie Christie will sport a heinous ensemble. Cate Blancett and Laura Linney will look divine. Ellen Page will look awkward as usual (God bless her heart). However, I'm predicting the Best Dressed female will go to, none other, than Marion Cotillard.

Mark my words, she's gonna rock it.

A LIFE Less Ordinary

2008-02-19T11:20:00.001-08:00

What better way to spend a rather dreary Sunday night than to play the game of LIFE with my amigo-chums. I use the word 'dreary' specifically only because I was still nursing a horrific hangover (damn you orange juice and vodka....times 3!). Anyways, wouldn't it be peachy if the game of LIFE correlated with your actual life. Take for instance, Sunday night's primo wicked "life". I was a successful novelist, living in a Hugh Heffingnormous mansion, and married to Brad Pitt. (Hey, it's my fictitious life!) Anywho, throughout my thirty-year span, Brad and I had three children named Snoop Dog, Meleike, and Shantashayshay. These names were courtesy of my roommates (we all put names in a cup, and I happen to draw the most, um, unique). In any case, I thought the names reflected well with me and my hubby's cultural-seeking, manic-adopting, ethnic-baby-obsessing personalities. Well....his atleast.

Through the thick of the board-game storm, I began to question the details within my own life. If the life I covet - filled with scolding bosses, coffee runs, and shameful casting couch excursions - is actually worth it. Okay okay, I'm totally kidding - I don't make coffee runs. Alas, I'll just have to wait. Patiently wait. And in the mean time be left with the sheer hope that a Brad-filled, mansion-living, highly successful life is, in due time, possible.

With a little Shantashayshay on the side.

Fast Food Order

2008-02-15T16:54:00.000-08:00

How adorable is Anderson Cooper? I would like two orders of him (hold the onions) with a side of curly fries please.

Heart Race to the White House

2008-02-11T16:21:00.000-08:00

I can distinctly remember the good ole' days when Politics was merely an apparition brought upon by a couple of geriatrics (eventually chiseled onto a mungo mountain). You know, when history class taught us the grueling significance of the declaration of independence and our four fathers (George Washington...and some other guys). Yet, never did I think I would be voluntarily interested in Politics. Until, however, this pesky little Presidential race began. Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton (or more widely known as the first potential black president or woman president) have become instant celebrities. I half-expect the paparazzi to snap unsightly photographs of the candidates (all of which would subsequently end up on P. Hilton's websites with fake jizz on their lip).

Anyways, it's quite amusing. Not too long ago, two of our most notorious fictionalized Presidents graced the boob tube mirroring an uncanny representation of Hillz and B-Rack. Ironically, I was a huge fan of 24 and Commander in Chief (a slight edge given to the heart-pounding drama of 24) . Suddenly, what many thought to be purely fictional, now can possibly be a reality. Who knew such a culturally influential year could make government so delightfully intriguing.

Now, Politics has suddenly entered every aspect of my daily life. I find myself regularly drawn to CNN, C-SPAN, and (gasp!) talk radio! My morning cartoons have transitioned to the Today Show and I actually have begun reading the LA Times regularly (ick)! I'm a hop, skip, and some Bengay away from full-fledged adulthood. All that's missing is some guacamole and a proposition from AARP, and I got myself a partay.

The United States of Tara

2008-02-07T11:25:00.000-08:00

Honestly, I did everything to cure me of my Diablo addiction...
I was prescribed every possible remedy on the (black)market. Visited all the top psychologists, physicians, and witch doctors. Hell, I even tried diagnosing (slash treating) myself on the internet (which evidently caused me to be sidetracked to perezhilton.com. DAMN YOU INTERNET!) Unfortunately, none of that was enough. The addiction remains! A few days ago, my dealer (formerly known as my boss) presented me with The United States of Tara script. For those of you who are so 6 months ago, it's Ms. Cody's sophomore project starring renowned actress and sexpot, Toni Collette. Now, I'm obviously not going to divulge too much information because I don't really want to be fired from my trabajo, not to mention shunned by Spielberg himself, but I will tell you that it's looking to be mighty entertaining. Imagine Juno televised, and you basically have the mirthful series pegged.

The premise revolves around a vivacious decorator (Tara Gregor) who struggles to find a balance between her dissociative identity disorder and dysfunctional family life. I must admit, I was obviously elated receiving this script on my desk. A real shot in the arm for my DC complex.

All I need to do now is figure out a way to get on that damn set. For your sake, you better hope I don't. Otherwise expect loads of Diablo COverage in the future.

Sin City?

2008-02-04T11:56:00.000-08:00

There's something about gambling and God that go so well together. Last Saturday, I attempted to try my luck (or lack thereof) at my Church's Texas Hold'em Tournament. That's right ladies and gents, my Church hosts poker tournaments! Where else can a guy put up his Sunday tithings? I kid I kid. Contrary to popular belief, no money was actually exchanged and we did not use the body of Christ (i.e. the yummy wafers) as poker chips. Instead, we played for raffle tickets. Oh I know. I'm très cool.

Anyways, I really hate to brag, but I'm awesome. That evening, I put on my best poker face and went in guns blazing. Actually, I played the 'but-I'm-new-to-this-game' card. I know, God will smite me. In the end, however, my luck diminished and I placed a staggering 5th place (out of 30, mind you). From that moment on, I decided to become the trophy wife to my new-found friend Gwendoline (a.k.a. Desperate Housewives' housemaid hussy). I was the Posh to her David - my poker face was replaced by a pouting one. To no avail, she didn't win, but did take home the silver.

The night ended with the much-anticipated raffle drawing. My luck must have carried over, because I actually won the Hasbro hit electronic game Catch Phrase! So...do I have any takers???

Through the Looking Glass

2008-02-01T11:03:00.000-08:00

This writer's strike has given me a red rump lately. No, not because my fave shows have gone M.I.A. (But now that you mention it, I wonder what Meredith and McDreamy are up to....) Anyways, living in and around Los Angeles through the WGA storm, I've yet to see any actual evidence of a strike.* Eighty-six days in, and it's still all smoke and mirrors if you ask me. It's dissapointing. I wanna see picket lines! You know, crowds of scripters carrying burning torches and tossing their failed screenplays into bonfires. Where are the writer riots??! I half-expected Akiva Goldsman to smash through a Paramount window with an Olivetti-Royal Premier Plus Typewriter. Nope. Nuthin'.

Alas, the reality is that the strike isn't an illusion. I have friends who were unfortunately fired from their jobs this past week. Now, who knows what the future holds for them. They may have to start selling meth. Or perhaps begin turning tricks on Miracle Mile. Or even (dare I say it) work in reality television! Ugh, the mere thought of that makes my skin shiver. Let's just hope, for their sake, it's resolved soon.

...Oh, who am I kidding. I miss McDreamy!

*The picture above is courtesy of my friend Yaniv. I have no idea where he ran into this. I personally think he staged it.

Steal My Heart

2008-01-29T14:23:00.000-08:00

Don't tell Diablo. I have another girl crush. I don't know what's wrong with me these days! But I've been hypnotized by her sixties-style voice.

Someone dry off my seat.

Her name is NICOLE ATKINS.

This Blows

2008-01-24T11:25:00.000-08:00

Through the wake of all my car problems, it seemed only fitting to encounter yet another one. On the way home last night, through the heavy rain pour, I attempted to protect my blog-writing, Diablo-loving life by racing through the storm as quickly as possible.

...fine. Okay, I admit, American Idol was just about to start.

Anyways, talk about a case of karmic retribution! The tire of my putrid-smelling car rental blew on the 405 freeway. Immediately, I resorted to my Bo Duke driving skills. *don't slam on the brakes. don't slam on the brakes.*

Then, I was fortunate enough to pull off the freeway and into a run-down gas station. However, the damn gass attendants brushed me off when I asked for tire-changin' help! I was a stranded bastard somewhere between a dark alley and The Crip's hang out. I scanned the lot for any approachable Samaritans, and spotted mini-Bill Gates in a silver Mercedes. As I moved forth, he and I exchanged glances. I'm pretty sure he feared me. Yes, all 125 pounds of me. Thankfully, another kind sir intervened and assisted in my tire-change. After an hour of dodging bullets and avoiding muggings, I was on my way home (finally!).

Now, after surviving my near-death experience, I get to drive around in Jethro's run-down station wagon with a nasty-ass spare tire.

Heath Ledger (1979 - 2008)

2008-01-22T19:21:00.000-08:00

In Memory of Heath Ledger (1979 - 2008)

Who created one of the best characters ever shown on screen.

INT: RIVERTON, WYOMING: DEL MAR TRAILER HOUSE: DAY: 1984:

ENNIS, back inside now, notices that ALMA JR. has left her sweater hanging over her chair.

He picks it up, hurries back to the door, opens it.

Sees she's long gone.

Folds the sweater. Goes to a little closet, opens the door. He places ALMA JR.'s sweater on the top shelf of the closet.

And there, on the back of the closet door, WE SEE THE SHIRTS, on a wire hangar suspended from a nail, and next to them, a postcard of Brokeback Mountain, tacked onto the door.

He has taken his shirt from inside of JACK'S and has carefully tucked JACK'S shirt down inside his own.

He snaps the top button of one of the shirts.

Looks at the ensemble through a few swinging tears.

ENNIS

Jack, I swear...

Stands there for a moment.

Then closes the closet door.

He looks out the window, at the great bleakness of the vast northern plains...

THE END

A Morning Quickie

2008-01-22T10:38:00.000-08:00

Only three things in this Ambien-tastic world is important enough to get my apathetic-ass out of bed at 5:30 in the frickin' morning. One: a 7a.m. departure to the Caribbeans. Two: James Marsden. And three: the Oscar Nominations telecast. That's right! At the wee hours, I braved the morning dew (sans coffee) and caught a glimpse of who the Academy deemed special enough to nominate.

Instead of yet another recap of the nominations, all of which can be found at The Film Experience, I thought I'd just give a BIG shout-out to the little film that did. Holy ish! I was très excited with all the nominations Juno scored. I admit, upon announcing Jason Reitman's name for Best Director, I almost had an accident. Yeah, that early, I'm really at my most unattractive. However, I couldn't be more thrilled.

Okay lads and ladies, it's time for mommy's caffeine.

P.S. Technically, this isn't a post about DC - a Diablog if you will. It's really about the nominations.

Seriously, not a single mention of my hetero lover.

Fine, I'll put another dollar in the Diablo jar.

The Apple of my Eye

2008-01-20T17:07:00.000-08:00

During my weekly mall excursion, I thought it pertinent to stop on by the Apple shop to see what neat, little gizmos they had in store (literally). I consider it mandatory to keep up to date with today's current technology. And when I say "keep up to date", I really mean "check my email on one of their sample computers and fiddle around with an iPhone (as if I were fortunate enough to afford one)". Oh, don't lie, ya'll do the same thing. Anyways, as I stood amongst the Apple savvy customers, I totally noticed one thing - the employees.

I'm not sure if you've ever noticed, but a good fraction of the Apple employees are oddly attractive! Yes, I admit, there are those unfortunate few that look like Dustin Diamond and Sloth Fratelli's love child - ah, I love The Goonies. However, when you really take a gander at the select few, you'll actually notice that we have some nerdalicious hotties on our hands. You know, the type of guys who sport (and rock) the 5 o'clock shadows and All-Star converses. The ones who've been seriously lifting those 15 pound dumbbells, which totally shows underneath those lime green Apple t-shirts. It's no wonder why they hire a couple dozen employees. It's a completely strategic sales technique used to push those products.

Fuck it. I'm gonna fake a break on my MacBook and head back to the mall. This time, I'll add a little cologne.

Diablo Cody Rewind

2008-01-18T14:16:00.000-08:00

Before you ridicule me for my constant DC obsession, let me just preface this post by reminding ya'll that the picture is merely a carry-over. My friend, Lawrence, sent it to me solely to remind me how much of a doof-ass I was. Anyways, I feel inclined to break the picture down. It's such a clear display of what the day consisted of.

1) If you look passed the blursula, it appears as though the sheer disdain from waiting in line has soaked in. Not true. It was just a photo op to pitch the camera. However, I must admit that the anticipation made my stomach curl. Felt as though I downed a fist-full of laxatives and washed it down with prune juice. Classy. I know.

2) As I waited patiently, I eavesdropped to the kind sir in front of me. He brought his A-game! He made mad convo about the Wizard of Gore. Ku-dos man, you have decent taste in slasher movies. If I was better prepared, I'd have presented her with a bottle of Snow Peak Peach flavored Boones.

3) Being the vain, narcisischick I am (not really), I asked Larz if my hair looked okay. I'm not kidding, my hair has the tendency to friz on overcast days. I'm talking Diana Ross....with a perm....being electrocuted.

4) Kindly, the sweet girl behind me said I "looked good". However, the more I examine this picture, the more I'm convinced she's looking disgustedly at my hair.

5) Oh, my heterosexual lover. Apparently, before Lawrence took the picture, she said, "Don't let me flash the camera too much. Wait a sec, let me stack them on the glass." Then, in Diablo Cody fashion, she puts her ladies on the counter top. That a girl!

Food For Thought

2008-01-16T17:54:00.000-08:00

How freakin' cute is Director Bryan Singer??? I wanna deep-fry him and slather him with grape jelly.

Just a little somethin' on my mind.

Fashion Road Kill

2008-01-14T15:59:00.000-08:00

With fashion week less than a month away, I thought it essential to write about the fabric we have draped on our backs. Okay, maybe not the fabric we own. Well, unless Dolce and Gabbana is thinking about incorporating synthetic fibers into their line. Can you imagine? Target couture meets Ross 'Dress for Less' chic. Anyways, what better way to capture the real essence of high-end fashion than to examine and dissect the lovely looks of the upcoming Sex and the City movie. Even if one single item of Carrie Bradshaw's wardrobe costs a month's rent.

Let the runway show begin...

1) Can we take a moment and just stare, transfixed, at Cynthia Nixon's dress. I'm thinking costume designer, the Patricia Field, was simply doing her part to help the environment. By using solar panels instead of fabric, she's reducing costs from the studio's electricity bill. Wow, quite the environmentalist that Patricia. As far as Carrie Bradshaw's outfit is concerned, I'm only focused on one thing. Or rather, attempting to avoid focus on one thing - that vomit-inducing monstrosity she has strangled around her neck. Seriously?

2) Love this! It's very new-age Get Smart meets X-Tina Aguilera (post skank). Any reason to wear knee-high, stiletto boots without requiring a bed-side deposit beforehand, and I'm on board. 3) I'm a big fan of this dress. The color's gorgeous. She looks amazing. But I can't help but wonder...did someone forget the starch? 4) Is it me, or does Carrie's flower keep growing?! Attack of the killer accessory!! I mean, it's as big as her head! Let's tone down the mutant blossom broaches, and spend more time focusing on the fierce footwear.

5) Charlotte, love the purse. Tell me, how many characters were slaughtered off Sesame Street just so you have a bag to carry your gajunk in? Honestly, though, the foursome actually look pretty cute here. Their shoes are all uh-mazing. Especially Carrie's. What's up with her skirt though? Exactly how much helium does she have packed away up there? Any moment, I feel like she's just gonna take off.

P.S. I can't imagine Patricia Field using fo-fur. I wonder what kind of paint-throwing, scene-raising, blood-splattering plans PETA has up their hemp sleeves. Can't wait to find out :)

6) Speaking of a flying Carrie Bradshaw, I'm quite taken by her chicken jacket. I'm being serious! Ooh, I'm totally in the mood for Popeyes for lunch. 7) Yet another example proving that Patricia Field is going green this year. The only thing I can't wrap my head around...what the hell kind of shiz can you fit in that Eiffel Tower purse? I'm thinking it's purely aesthetic. 8) This is casual Carrie. Cute, huh? Even if it does look as though she stepped knee-deep in grout. *Side Note* Notice how she's wearing the same shoes in every single photo. That's so unlike you Carrie! Although, it's quite economical. What's next? The same outfit worn twice in one month! That's blasphemy!

9) I saved the best for last. To quote my heterosexual lover: "Honest to blog", this wedding dress is fan-freakin'-tabulous. It makes all of Vera Wang's prior work look like prom dresses. However, how obvious is Patricia Field's feather fetish? Talk about a hard-on for poultry apparel. Eh, it's all breezy. That obsession is easily forgivable. Corduroy. Now that's unforgivable.

All in all, I am ecstatic for this movie. I'm a devout follower of the series, and I'm almost certain I'll love the film. Hell, the ensemble's ensembles are reason enough to spend the $12.50. Remain unconvinced? Think of it this way. By seeing this movie, you'll be supporting Patricia's five point plan to ending global warming. Simply by dressing hot.

Now, to leave you with my number 10. The Sex and the City movie teaser. For those who've been abstaining from the sex and haven't seen it yet.

A Diablo Cody Weekend

2008-01-13T16:32:00.001-08:00

This weekend, I was on serious Diablo Cody overload. It wasn't by any means a bad thing, but quite unexpected. For those who've been completely out of the know, Diablo Cody is the screenwriter of Juno (my #1 movie of the year). Now, before I get involved with the heady details of my Diablo-filled Saturday, can we take a narcissistic moment and look at this picture. Look at how happy I am! As a result, my wide-tooth grin caused the hideous and unfortunate double chin. I thought, in order for both of us to get in the shot, we needed to squeeze closer together. Apparently, that meant hiding any indication of a neck. Well, I'm glad she looks good. P.S. "Diablo-Filled Saturday" sounded way dirtier than actually intended.

Back to the story. So Saturday morning, I was elated when I discovered that a nearly nekkid Keira Knightley graced the cover of Entertainment Weekly. Those high spirits turned to sheer exhilaration when I saw Ms. Cody wrote her third (count 'em, THIRD) EW column. A few weeks ago, when I learned she was becoming a

columnist regular, I wrote to Entertainment Weekly expressing my gratitude. Apparently, they

were just as grateful. They posted my comment! Please don't misconstrue my excitement with conceit. I, by no means, think myself high and mighty because my blurb was posted in this issue. A monkey could get in...no offense to monkeys.

Anyways, that afternoon, she was doing a Q&A at a local book shop. I was determined to meet my alleged heterosexual lover (as previously stated), so I attended with intentions of being my calm and collected self. That shit flew out the window.

It started with a question. I simply asked her, with all the attention and acclaim she's receiving, how does she fend off the criticism that's inevitably brought up because of her past as a stripper. She answered eloquently, "Basically, with a memoir that chronicles my life as a stripper, I basically have to deal with that kind of attention. However, I don't want my past to dictate my future."

Later, apparently I didn't think one question was enough. I

wanted to ask another. She immediately called me out on it. Even in high school, I was always the question whore. This time, I asked what she preferred writing (blogs, screenplays, novels, editorial, etc.) Sadly, she's not much the blog girl anymore. Who can blame her? She's Hollywood's 'It Girl' - a term she despises.

Waiting in line, I was conjuring up small-talk that didn't seem too fan-girl. The best I could come up with was, "Uh, hi. Not too much pressure, but this picture is going on my blog". She responded, "Let's do it. Just don't let me flash the camera too much". I told her I wasn't Perez Hilton, so she needn't worry. Then, to top off my night, I blurted out, "Thanks for coming". As if I invited her. I was mortified. Fortunately, she was thankful I came too. :)

All in all, Diablo Cody is just as cool, just as vivacious, just as charming as I assumed she would be. Every ounce of success she's encountered is well deserved, and I'm imagining the success will continue well beyond Juno. In the meantime, I'm hoping she stays true to herself, continues to write what she wants to write, and remains the witty blogger I've grown so accustomed to.

Now, if you don't mind, I'm gonna hop in the shower. Maybe it'll wash away the stagnant embarrassment.

My Top Ten ('08)

2008-01-10T11:53:00.000-08:00

So every blog corner I turn, there's a Top 10 list staring me dead in the face. Envious? You could say that. In any case, I thought I'd jot down my Top 10 so, down the road, when I'm recapping my life 9 months from now, I'll know what I thought of the year in movies. P.S. Not sure why I chose to write 9 months specifically. Maybe I'm unknowingly preggers.

And without further ado...

10) There Will Be Blood - If I ever met Daniel Day Lewis on the street, I'd most likely pee my pants. He was c-r-e-e-p-y in this movie. This freaky flick left me speechless. Literally, I had no words. Except for maybe, "holy shiatsu!" P.T. Anderson sets a tone at the beginning of this movie that lingers throughout its entirety. I'm pretty sure it could have been cut down a minute or two (I drank a large diet coke before it started and nature came-a-callin' ). That being said, most of the scenes were completely necessary for the story.

9) The Kite Runner - I admit it, I haven't read the book. Please don't chastise me for that confession! I have it on my 'must-read' list.....right below 'Anna Karenina' and 'I Am America (And So Can You!)'. Anyways, back to the movie, Marc Forster demonstrates, once again, why he's such a fine director. In every one of his films, he gets the greatest performances out of his actors. Oh, plus, I watched very closely, and Halle Berry doesn't once scream "make me feel gooood". Seriously. Not once

8) Sicko - After the initial shock wore off (I'm always immediately taken aback from seeing Michael Moore on the big screen), I suddenly became extremely intrigued by the documentary. Moore has a real talent for skewing people's thoughts and opinions through the magic of film and editing. For that, I applaud him. *Side note* I went to see this movie on the Fourth of July. Albeit, not the greatest movie to see on Independence Day, but as a result, the electricity went out and we didn't get to finish it. Uncle Sam was piiissed. (I did, however, watch it all later)

7) Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street - After watching the revival on Broadway last summer, I was convinced that a movie-musical of this Sondheim masterpiece could not be made. Enter Tim Burton. Weary at first, I eventually surrendered to his genius. Good thing I did, because despite Helena Bonham Carter's "voice", the movie was a home-run. Well, in my heart at least. On a different note, is it me, or is there total room for a sequel? Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber's Back for Blood....again. No?...

6) Once - Walking into this indie, I had no idea what to expect. Actually, I knew it was a "modern day musical". But that, to me, could have been any number of things. Didn't they characterize Reefer Madness as a "modern day musical"? You could see where my expectations were. However, Once delivered a subtle, sincere story of a developing relationship. Not to mention the music!! Man-oh-man. Tell me, why can't it be possible to suddenly burst out into song? I'm serious. Real life sucks the big one.

5) The Diving Bell and the Butterfly - As we speak, I'm writing this by the blink of an eye....

Seriously, how did the guy write an entire book this way? I couldn't do it. His story is remarkable and so is this movie. I describe it as a painting on film. Art cinema.

4) Ratatouille - Who knew vermin could be so cute! This enchanting little film made me want to get a rat to call my own. Can you imagine, I can start my own rat colony kitchen staff and they could help me cook! Anyways, the movie was adorable and the animation was breathtaking. It astonishes me how detailed animated movies can be. Seriously, Brad Bird can make an animated film about a tape worm on a whimsical quest in a digestive tract, and it'd still be amazing. Wait. Don't tell him that idea. I may wanna use it.

3) No Country for Old Men - Is it wrong that I still found Javier Bardem incredibly attractive? Even as a homeopathic serial killer. I mean, do you judge me? Anyways, the movie was such an edge-on-your-seat thrill ride, I think I may have left the theatre seat a little wet (that didn't sound as dirty in my head). The Coen Brothers deserve all the praise they're getting this year. The movie will haunt you in your nightmares.....and Bardem in your dreams :)

2) Hairspray - I know what you're thinking. "Eli, why so obsessed with musicals this year?" Honestly, I can't answer that. They just made me smile. Even John 'Look-like-a-muppet/Sound-like-Dr.-Evil' Travolta. "You see me hobnobbing and drinking Rum and Cokes with all those hoi polloi?!" I'm sorry, but this movie had me dancing the stricken chicken in the aisles. I mean, Latifah. Pfeiffer. Walken. James Freakin' Marsden. Oh, please, let's just hope this hot movie-musical streak lasts.

1) Juno - If you know me even a little bit, you should know what my favorite film of the year was. I will concede for a moment and admit that I was immediately put off by the film. The dialogue was, at first, obnoxiously contrived and the plot started off slightly weak. However, once it started to find heart, it automatically stole mine. The movie, to me, had a completely different take on the whole 'right to choose' issue while maintaining a new, fresh comedic style. I have taken Diablo Cody as my new, heterosexual lover. Her script aside, I've read articles and watched junkets with this sassy minx, and she's without a doubt the coolest girl I've ever watched...and she doesn't even have to try, ya know?

Pan's Parking Lot

2008-01-08T11:16:00.000-08:00

Why do horrible parking situations always happen to me?! Have I been cursed by the parking garage gods, and will be eternally haunted? This past weekend, I made the mistake of driving separately to the Beverly Center mall. Running late, I hauled ass in order to meet my amigos at Chromebones (why we met there is of no importance) and completely forgot to check which floor I parked on. Keep in mind, this parking lot is the labyrinths of parking lots. I've actually heard horror stories of people going in and never coming out. Unfortunately, it wasn't until I left the dreaded mall when I realized I was an uber idiot (Please refrain from responding to this statement). At that point, I spent a good 45 minutes hiking through each floor, pressing the key alarm to a car I'm not too familiar with, and to top it all off my phone was dying. I was a prime candidate for a mugging. After my anxiety wore off (along with perfectly good shoe leather), I finally found my car! Needless to say, I headed home and never looked back.

Note to the wise, learn from my mental defectiveness.

The Sweet Smell of Success

2008-01-04T09:56:00.000-08:00

This morning, I exchanged my old rental car for a brand spankin' new one. The thought of having to drive grandma Sue's wagon wheels for two more weeks was too much to bare. Besides, it cost my left nut to fill up ... (and the value for the twins has depreciated).

The new car, a better sized Hyundai Accent, seems better suited for me. Until, however, I opened the door and was hit by the foulest stench that has ever come from a vehicle. I'm not exaggerating. The inside of the car seriously smells like ass exploded. A mix between dog stank, a carton of Marlboros, and lumberjack BO. Okay, I haven't actually smelt a lumberjack's body odor, but I can't imagine it smelling like rose blossoms. In any case, I attempted to drown out the pungence by fumigating the car with Glade 'Cranberry Delight and Everlasting Pine' air freshner. However, instead of disinfecting the problem, it made matters much worse. As a result, I have to drive around in Jethro Bodine's rundown station wagon.

Don't light a match.

Signal InterFEARance

2008-01-02T15:11:00.000-08:00

I have an Ipod connector that is transmitted through the radio and it allows me to listen to my tunnage in my rented Pontiac Grand Prix (sexy, I know. Big enough to fit you, the Mrs., and little Johnnie, Janie, and Judie.). Anyways, I get the biggest kick when it picks up other people's car signals on the highway. Just yesterday, amidst a cloud of Pat Benatar and The Format, I was interrupted several times by an array of drivers listening to all kinds of jammage. What's fun, though, is connecting the song to the person. Por ejemplo, a tiny, Asian lady driving a Mini Cooper listening to Stevie Nicks. Can you say AWESOMENESS? Or Hairy McMacho driving a gigazmo Semi Truck listening to the ever-talented Brad Paisley. That, ladies and gentleman, wasn't only hilarious, but appropriate. However, my favorite would definitely have to be Mr. Hottie McBody, college brah' jammin' out to High School Musical 2. Seriously dude? Stick to the status quo.

2007 is SO last year.

2007-12-31T15:05:00.000-08:00

"What will you remember most when you look back at the year 2007?"

It's a question that has been posed to me a whopping three times in the last week, and to be quite frank, I have yet to solidify an answer. This day in age, it's not so much what you "remember most". But rather, what you hope to forget. It's funny, no matter how much good happens in a year, the bad often leaves you with the fucking stain. And no matter how hard you try to scrub that stain out, you're always left with a lasting mark which will stay with you for years to come.

Oh 2007, you reek of an uncomforable, foul disdain which will undoubtedly seep and sit in the fibers my clothes now and through the new year. Why can't you show me a little mercy? Why are you constantly calling out to me? Why do you get so much pleasure in holding on to the small, superficial obstructions? The good has to have some sort of say in the type of year I had. Why is it so difficult to let the good in? Please, 2007, stop being such a pretentious bitch. Allow me a little freedom to postively examine myself. You know what, fuck you 2007. I don't need your permission. You know why, because 2008 is a brand new year. And I'm certain 2008 will be much more cooperative.

"What will you remember most when you look back at the year 2007?" It's a stupid question. What I'm most thankful for? Now that I can answer.

Happy New Years. Here's to good health and the days.

...and a Happy New Year.

2007-12-27T17:19:00.001-08:00

Merry Christmas to me

2007-12-24T09:09:00.000-08:00

Christmas came early this year.

The Return of the 80s

2007-12-20T16:15:00.001-08:00

Albeit, I was only alive during half this prolific decade - but let's be honest, shall we, the 80s rocked. It completely pummeled the bell-bottom atrocity that was the 70s and set the standard straight for 90s pop-invasion. I mean, Duran Duran. Culture Club. Kool & The Gang??!! I mean, what more could you want? The sheer nastalgia of it all makes me yearn for a revamped make-over.

Therefore, it didn't surprise me when I heard Ashlee Simpson's new single rocked the casbah. Although it sounds like she snorted a line of Stefani, it's pretty damn catchy. I can't decide if it's more Devo or more Lauper...

The Sweetest Thing

2007-12-17T17:12:00.000-08:00

I have a confession. I began a sorted affair with a woman yesterday. It began at 1pm in the kitchen and lasted for two and a half hours. I'm not proud of this encounter, but I couldn't resist. Her smell was incredibly sweet and rich, it pulled me into her hypnotic trance. She tasted like absolute bliss and I couldn't control myself.

However, I had to end it. She's an older woman and no good could come of it.

One Stop Shop

2007-12-15T22:07:00.000-08:00

Can someone explain to me the rationality behind crazy Holiday shoppers? I mean, today's Target-attending, sales-seeking Christmas shoppers have some sort of 'no guts no glory' judgement in the parking lot. Take for instance today. As I was about to pull into a parking spot in the garage of the Ventura Target, some extremely vicious soccer mom wearing a velour tracksuit nearly smashes into me with her Volkswagen Sharan Mini-Van. Naturally, I thought it was a hate crime. Instead, I encountered a never

ending trend of Holiday-shopping bitches. You know, the type of people whose sights are set out for the Translucent Totable Book Lights or the Jackie's Talking Comedy Calculator - gifts nobody ever wants but gets solely on the basis of frugal discounts. Ugh, who came up with the word 'frugal' anyways? Sounds like a Muppet. Look, I'm not discriminating against people seeking discounts. Hell, I just purchased a 'Nobody Puts Baby In the Corner' halter top because it cost a mere $4.50. But there has to be a balance between cost-cutting and cutting for costs. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a car to key.

My First Time

2007-12-14T15:02:00.000-08:00

No, nothing like that. I'm talking about my first blog. Actually, I lie, this isn't my first time. I had a brief encounter with livejournal once, but it treated me badly. In fact, I needed to see a grief counselor because of its constant emotional abuse. Needless to say, I got out of it all okay. Now, I'm here. With all that is happening, it seemed only necessary to have an outlet to communicate all my emotional distress - which is exactly why I called it Montezuma's Revenge....expect a lot of verbal diarrhea.

On the way to work, a homeless man on Sepulveda and Santa Monica (I call him Santa Monica Sam), paced up and down the sidewalk with, what looked like, sincere trepidation. On any other Friday, he usually holds out his sign that reads "my father was murdered by ninjas - need money for karate lessons". But today was slightly different. Instead, the sign was on the ground, and he anxiously huffed across the street - didn't even look back. Early retirement perhaps?

On another note, me and Nutcracker Jack just wants to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas. May your eggnog be spiked with extra rum. I think I'll retire to the kitchen and whip me up some of my mom's famous, store-bought pot pies. And for dessert, I think I have some old marshmellow peeps somewhere. Then again, they might be from last year.....eh, that's never stopped me before. PEACE!