On Vox: Coachies coming soon.
I haven't blogged in a while. I've got an entire backlog of things I haven't written about. I didn't post about how annoyed I was by all those high school kid-couples driving around during their spring breaks endangering all surrounding pedestrians and commuters as they canoodled in their parents' cars. I didn't write about the pangs of growing apart and why it's the most necessary mindfuck to machete your way through. I didn't write about how I embarrassed myself by asking John Warnock "What do you do for Adobe?" and then being answered "[I] Founded it."
I mention the combination of these things to make the point that when I finally do get to writing and publishing them (the activities of which are being postponed until the launch of my most vain of all vanity projects), they will be incredibly untimely. And that irks me. My response to all these damn "Who can say what?" articles will not exactly coincide with the peak of my emotions surrounding Imus/94.9/V-Tech coverage, people will forget that Boris Yeltsin died, and 300 will be so five to seven weeks ago.
So, to at least get back into the swing of things (the blogging swing of conceptualizing, composing, linking, posting, and then realizing how much editing you have left to do), I'm going to write down some random shit here.
Because shit happens.
Random Shit No. 1
This is my Coachella lineup. I'm flying out on Thursday and return on Monday. I am the most stoked for Amy Winehouse, Ratatat, and the Roots. Each of those artists happen to also be my current MySpace Top Friends:
Topfriends I am such a social networking loser.
Random Shit No. 2
People seem to be amused by my missed connections and stories of club nights gone wrong. Even if they're not, usually someone ends up commenting. That said, here's another one. On Saturday Melissa and I went to this house party in the Mission area. It was pretty cool. Attendees ranged mostly in their mid-20s.
Jump to the point. I met this guy. He seemed really cool. He was wearing a Diesel shirt. Two points. He made me laugh so much. Three points. I actually felt comfortable enough to flirt around him. Three points. I even touched his shoulder! Two points for me.
So early on in the night, he somehow acquires my business card, which was actually never intended to be passed on to him. We continue to run into each other at the party, though. It's all fun and games. Melissa and I were alternating between Solo cups of "sangria" and "fruit punch," and I was even happier when someone busted out some cake and I discovered the bowl of barbecue Ruffles crumbs. We were having a great time - When was the last time I was at a houseparty? - And it was completely, utterly obvious that this man with the Diesel shirt and I were interested in each other. Like, ridiculously, "Oh my god, he is so into you!" obvious. Eee! status. (That's got to be my most favorite sound in the world.)
It must have been nearing 1:30 or so, and things were just starting to wind down. Melissa and I were still on a roll, though. Some doode was talking to her (and did not seem to notice that she was totally wingmanning for me) and at some point Diesel shirt guy decided it would be really funny if he sang Diddy's part in "Last Night" at me. And he was right. It was absolutely hilarious and entirely cute and I was covering my face the entire time because I didn't know what to do with myself. It was remarkable. I wasn't too shy and I wasn't too overt. I didn't run away from him and I didn't dance up on him. It seemed like we had already found a perfect median with each other that was neither too suggestive or demanding.
His friend, who is also hitting on me and making things a little weird, spills his drink on my cheap Guess outlet shoes for the second out of three times, and I go somewhere and wipe off my shoes. I come back, and Diesel boy taps me and says, "Hey Mayka, I gotta go now."
Me, shocked. "Oh, okay..."
"But it was nice to meet you." Shakes my hand.
"Oh, yeah, nice to meet you, too!"
And - HE - WALKS - OUT.
WHAT THE FUCK.
Melissa sees this. There is a sudden three-foot gaping ring surrounding me and I feel like I've just been stranded at the drive-in. Melissa steps into my sudden wealth of personal space and gapes with me, "What is that?"
Mayka: "I DON'T KNOW!"
Mayka's face: :O
Melissa: "5... 4... 3... 2..."
Mayka & Melissa: "AGH/OMG!"
I see his Diesel shirt disappear through the doorway and I don't know what the Hell happened.
Okay, fine! I don't even really like that song anyway! >:O And that's the end of that.
For the sake of positive thinking, he does have my business card, and that could bring about some pleasant surprise during the encounter's grace period. Except, the only times I've received business cards while clubbing or partying, I have promptly tossed them out or stuck them under other people's windshield wipers.
Random Shit No. 3
Since she first arrived at the house, we have changed Xena's name to Tashi. Tashi means "precious" in Tibetan, and we're going to have to give some tough love to get Tashi to hang out with us. At the moment, when we say "Hello, Tashi," she sniffs our hands and backs away while grumbling. (This we call "Tashi Talk.") Yogi, meanwhile, remains the most lovable he has ever been.
Random Shit No. 4
- Von > Mos Def > Mickey Avalon One would think the Mighty Mos would be unable to disappoint. Then again, one would think some crap artist like Mickey Avalon wouldn't be able to get bookings, period. Anywhere. At least Von, in all his unknown glory, was backed up by a great band with an Asian guy and a cellist (Not the same person - =O!).
- "You have a much better life if you wear impressive clothes." Vivienne Westwood's white dress, part of the exhibit at the DeYoung, was absolutely breathtaking, and it's a shame it was stuck in that lame little corner.
- Pirates and ninjas agree, cowboys suck. I've been flipping through Nerve's Sex Advice from... (Purely for edu-tainment purposes. There is no practicum involved.) and in all the many pages of hilarious one-liners and nouveau approaches to sex tips, I think the most entertaining was the cowboys'. :)
By the time I post again, perhaps I'll know what awards Landis and I got for our TSC work. I don't know the caliber of this contest (In fact, I didn't even kno w I was entered into it.), but winning an award for "Why I Hate Studio 8" doesn't seem to speak much for doing things that actually deserve awards.
Now if only Nickelodeon would recognize my farts and love piece for the genius that it is...
Random Shit No. 6
I haven't been keeping up with people's blogs. Just FYI.
Random Shit No 7.
And this is why I shouldn't try to blog when I'm intending to go to bed before 11.
Originally posted on themaykazine.vox.com