Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Work of Art, episode 5
I was underwhelmed with this episode as far the the productions, but overwhelmed as far as the drama. whoa Eric, it's about time you left, especially after that little tantrum you pitched. Jackie apologized! Why throw her under the bus? sexual frustration. it's the only answer. she's a hot bitch, and she knows it (obvs), and you're not getting any. Maybe that's why you're so bitter towards Miles too, but he can't help that the chemistry between him and nicole is just too great to ignore! I must say, when they called Miles' name at the end, my stomach sank so far that I couldn't even enjoy the fake out when they said "you're safe". gawd, he's just so unintentionally hip, so innocent and precious, such a "tortured artist", thank you Eric... I just want to take him under my wing and show him a safe, simple, place... (eff you Nicole, I love your love). Thank god Eric's gone, who hasn't seen that coming for the past, hm... 4? episodes? yeah? yeah. Mistake number one: placing miles on the shit team. If he'd been with Nicole, Abdi, and Ryan, that mediocre structure would have certainly brilliant. and the whole 9/11 towers incident probs would have been avoided... next to go? I hope it's peregrine. she's much too judgmental for an artist with no caliber.
Rooney and my brief confidence boost
I'll catch you up gradually on the most significant events from the past few weeks...
July the fifth, 8 am, my alarm goes off. A bit confused, I turned it off and rolled over. 2 and a half hours later I jump up in a flurry to see that I have 6 missed calls and 2 voicemails, and a few angry drunken texts from the night before. I rolled out of bed and strolled outside to take the risk of cleaning up beer bottles and cans barefooted from my kitchen, garage, front yard... the neighbors' front yards... and so on. Dragging the trash cans that smelled of hot beer down to the street didn't affect me so much as the realization that a lot had changed in a single night. Typical, it seems.
I had ended whatever I'd had with Kurt the night before. Seems like nothing, right, I wasn't happy with him and I had attempted an end with him a couple of times before. I stayed strong, but I knew this one was different, it still is. I begged for his friendship, which was then forced, and is now nonexistent. The comment he made that hurt the most was his apology for his inability to be Jared. Pshaw... that's not what I wanted. right? right.
My friends Lela and Kristi, who, when combined with me and a few others, make up "the bitches", interrupted my stream of thought and forced me to realize that we had 30 minutes to plan a trip to New Orleans and find our fourth "bitch", Ben Conway, who was had been m.i.a. for the past few hours... So 5 hours later, we were off in the civ, headed to NOLA with no Ben and no alcohol, and no expectations for what was to come (if you dont count the expectation of finding alcohol). We roll into the courtyard marriot, located conveniently across from the Republic, which was to become our... stumbling grounds if you will. And, after a desperate hunt for white wine, tequila, and Popeye's chicken, we were off to a Rooney concert, where all of Lela's dreams would come true.
Now, I'm not a huge Rooney fan. But, I was drunk, and the rivalry amongst Lela and the teenage girls posing as 21 year olds was quite amusing. Gum-spitting, hair pulling, ass grinding rivalry. (The best kind...) I guess that's why they call us the bitches. So, I was having fun with these facts until Lela and Kristi grabbed me to point out the direction of the lead guitarist's gaze... which was right at me. awwww yeah... eye-sex time. We had beautiful, delicate eye-sex, which graduated to rough and blatant eye-sex that was on the verge of making me uncomfortable, but you know how I love my eye-sex so leave an emphasis on that "on the verge of...". This was fun.
so then. then. Jason Schwartzman, one of my favorite actors and a decent musician, came on stage. uhm, what? I needed reassurance from Lela, I soon got it. apparently he is the lead singer's brother. I squealed. now i was on the level with the hollister-obsessing teenagers surrounding me. except i think i was the only one squealing... but hey, it got the lead guitarist's attention...
so the show ends.. and the band files out into a crowd of bouncy girls. and, I stand in the back, out of line, and I catch mystery rooney member's eye again. at this point my ego has blown off the roof, so i gracefully, drunkenly, stomp to the table, cut off the girls begging for autographs, lean over the table and whisper in his ear.
"Hey, I'm about to get out of here, what are you doing afterwards?"
"I'm not sure, we did it pretty big last night, we might just hang here for a while. You should come back"
"Alright well, we might come back later... once this (insert demeaning glance at impatient tweens) calms down a bit."
"Sounds good. Wait, have I met you before? Maybe at another show?"
"Haha. no. I have never seen y'all before. You were good though... "
"What's your name?"
"Lucy, yours?"
"Taylor"
"Nice to meet you, Taylor. See you later?"
"Yeah, see ya"
AAAAAHHHHHHHHH was being withheld for a whole 10 steps out the door until it leaked. Holy shit.
We would return later to meet everyone, exchange cell phone numbers with yet another member of the band, and make out.
hahahahha okay not really about the making out part.. but I did manage a pretty smooth text message conversation with "Brandon from ROONEY" as he is now called in my contacts list before passing out from mystery 3 dollah shots on bourbon.
Oh, N.O.
So, here's the best part. They are playing a show in Memphis in August. And Lela, Kristi, and I will absolutely be there. here's the worst part. immediately before passing out I drunkenly texted Brandon from ROONEY "ask Taylor if he needs a comfortable bed to sleep in" ... ..... ... no response.
July the fifth, 8 am, my alarm goes off. A bit confused, I turned it off and rolled over. 2 and a half hours later I jump up in a flurry to see that I have 6 missed calls and 2 voicemails, and a few angry drunken texts from the night before. I rolled out of bed and strolled outside to take the risk of cleaning up beer bottles and cans barefooted from my kitchen, garage, front yard... the neighbors' front yards... and so on. Dragging the trash cans that smelled of hot beer down to the street didn't affect me so much as the realization that a lot had changed in a single night. Typical, it seems.
I had ended whatever I'd had with Kurt the night before. Seems like nothing, right, I wasn't happy with him and I had attempted an end with him a couple of times before. I stayed strong, but I knew this one was different, it still is. I begged for his friendship, which was then forced, and is now nonexistent. The comment he made that hurt the most was his apology for his inability to be Jared. Pshaw... that's not what I wanted. right? right.
My friends Lela and Kristi, who, when combined with me and a few others, make up "the bitches", interrupted my stream of thought and forced me to realize that we had 30 minutes to plan a trip to New Orleans and find our fourth "bitch", Ben Conway, who was had been m.i.a. for the past few hours... So 5 hours later, we were off in the civ, headed to NOLA with no Ben and no alcohol, and no expectations for what was to come (if you dont count the expectation of finding alcohol). We roll into the courtyard marriot, located conveniently across from the Republic, which was to become our... stumbling grounds if you will. And, after a desperate hunt for white wine, tequila, and Popeye's chicken, we were off to a Rooney concert, where all of Lela's dreams would come true.
Now, I'm not a huge Rooney fan. But, I was drunk, and the rivalry amongst Lela and the teenage girls posing as 21 year olds was quite amusing. Gum-spitting, hair pulling, ass grinding rivalry. (The best kind...) I guess that's why they call us the bitches. So, I was having fun with these facts until Lela and Kristi grabbed me to point out the direction of the lead guitarist's gaze... which was right at me. awwww yeah... eye-sex time. We had beautiful, delicate eye-sex, which graduated to rough and blatant eye-sex that was on the verge of making me uncomfortable, but you know how I love my eye-sex so leave an emphasis on that "on the verge of...". This was fun.
so then. then. Jason Schwartzman, one of my favorite actors and a decent musician, came on stage. uhm, what? I needed reassurance from Lela, I soon got it. apparently he is the lead singer's brother. I squealed. now i was on the level with the hollister-obsessing teenagers surrounding me. except i think i was the only one squealing... but hey, it got the lead guitarist's attention...
so the show ends.. and the band files out into a crowd of bouncy girls. and, I stand in the back, out of line, and I catch mystery rooney member's eye again. at this point my ego has blown off the roof, so i gracefully, drunkenly, stomp to the table, cut off the girls begging for autographs, lean over the table and whisper in his ear.
"Hey, I'm about to get out of here, what are you doing afterwards?"
"I'm not sure, we did it pretty big last night, we might just hang here for a while. You should come back"
"Alright well, we might come back later... once this (insert demeaning glance at impatient tweens) calms down a bit."
"Sounds good. Wait, have I met you before? Maybe at another show?"
"Haha. no. I have never seen y'all before. You were good though... "
"What's your name?"
"Lucy, yours?"
"Taylor"
"Nice to meet you, Taylor. See you later?"
"Yeah, see ya"
AAAAAHHHHHHHHH was being withheld for a whole 10 steps out the door until it leaked. Holy shit.
We would return later to meet everyone, exchange cell phone numbers with yet another member of the band, and make out.
hahahahha okay not really about the making out part.. but I did manage a pretty smooth text message conversation with "Brandon from ROONEY" as he is now called in my contacts list before passing out from mystery 3 dollah shots on bourbon.
Oh, N.O.
So, here's the best part. They are playing a show in Memphis in August. And Lela, Kristi, and I will absolutely be there. here's the worst part. immediately before passing out I drunkenly texted Brandon from ROONEY "ask Taylor if he needs a comfortable bed to sleep in" ... ..... ... no response.
Brief but good...
Ok. sorry i'm such a slacker... but I've had a hell of a few weeks. I'm not going to get into catching up right now, seeing as it would probably take like 678087 hours and Work of Art starts in an hour and a half and i might cry if I miss the beginnings of Miles and Nicole's secret urban outfitters blog-worthy relationship... which is inevitable... btw if yall dont know what im talking about, get on it. new fave Bravo reality show... i think Project Runway might be replaced. blaspheme? you might think so. until you watch. anyway... updates on that to come later (obvs).
Here's a taster though....
first of all: best collaboration evr evr evr evrrrrrr for summer 2010. who knows if converse thought of it, or the brilliant minds of best coast, kid cudi, and vampire weekend needed some extra cash, but I don't care because this music video/ad made me want to get up off the couch and go buy some converses. okay... almost. sorry converse... but hey, super hip new vid!
while you're at it go listen to best coast's album Crazy For You. solid gold.
speaking of solid gold, "everything Karl Lagerfield does is gold," and his new Chanel fall 2010 collection is too. Rawr. all i can say. Watch out Taylor Lautner..
i screamed when i saw those boots. to which my mother responded, "start looking for knockoffs, honey." FML.
post l8r bitcheszzz
Here's a taster though....
first of all: best collaboration evr evr evr evrrrrrr for summer 2010. who knows if converse thought of it, or the brilliant minds of best coast, kid cudi, and vampire weekend needed some extra cash, but I don't care because this music video/ad made me want to get up off the couch and go buy some converses. okay... almost. sorry converse... but hey, super hip new vid!
while you're at it go listen to best coast's album Crazy For You. solid gold.
speaking of solid gold, "everything Karl Lagerfield does is gold," and his new Chanel fall 2010 collection is too. Rawr. all i can say. Watch out Taylor Lautner..
i screamed when i saw those boots. to which my mother responded, "start looking for knockoffs, honey." FML.
post l8r bitcheszzz
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