i heart Telly Salavas

Mortified

This weekend was a great break in routine! Friday after work, my pals and I went into SF to see Mortified live. Mortified is, as my cousin Jaclyn describes, a mix between post-secret and Augusten Burroughs. Yes.

 

In actuality, it is a book compiled of old journal and diary entries from 80’s teen angst, sexual fantasies, religious inquisitions, and desperate means of survival. Needless to say, this stuff is super hilarious, but also a little unsettling due to similarities of personal growing pains.

 

The event was held at the Make-Out Room on 22^nd between Valencia (where all the dirty, sexy young kids hang out) and Market (where there are too many abandoned beautiful old theaters and eye glass stores).

 

The Make-Out Room is decked out in anything and everything glittery and sardonic. Silver streamers whirled from the ceiling, Mardi Gras beads framed the lazy spin of the disco ball, and the walls were lined with dense flower-printed chairs hiked up under Formica end tables- glued to the blue and orange vinyl flooring, and muddied-turquoise love-booths prevented walking room at the front of the bar/performance theater caboosed by a petite dark stage.

 

My favorite journal writer performed there on Friday too (Will Seymore)! It was they guy who wrote about his “Aunt Liza” (Minnelli that is), his unhealthy obsession with the soap opera The Guiding Light, his accidental shop-lifting habit, hatred of all things gym class, and infatuation with lemon bar recipes and salt-dough wreaths.

 

I laughed the whole way through as former geeks, Presbyterian nymphos, and utopian tendencied Goth chicks read their most embarrassing entries, through the competition of “worst teenage poet,” and through bursts of the-best-of-the-best 80’s tunes. I left with pit stains and laugh cramps and can’t wait to go again when they are back next month! Wanna come with?

 

Then on Saturday, we went to see Knocked-Up. Normally I would have been completely put off by this crude title (and the basic premise of the movie), but my boys from Freaks and Geeks

were in it, so I had to see it. I must admit, I laughed way too much and have no regrets on seeing it. There were some questionable areas, but dammit I needed to let loose and I did! Don’t pay $10 for it though- wait till its out on video.

i just did something terrible

i went to a chinese buffet.

i know i know. i dont know why i did it. but it happened. and i wish it hadnt. i shouldve known, considering it was in fremont, which not only is a wasteland, but does not have a high Chinese population.

you would have thought, also, that the condition of the restrooms would’ve clued me in to what i was about to endure. chartreuse lychen grew up the back of the toilet and the faucet only ran two temperatures: bone bursting cold and flesh melting hot.

but no. we continued on- holding our cafeteria trays and sliding past each basin of luke-warm wads of over-sauced meat and bug-eyed seafood.

again, i shouldve known not to proceed as i walked over to the salad bar and nine dozen prawns were staring up at me…nuzzled together like clams in mud.

i couldn’t save them. they were already dead.

so we sank into the plastic sheathed booths, avoiding eye contact and wondering silently why we were two of 7 people there.

$7.99 for unlimited msg to fill my howling gut seemed like a good idea until i bit into the “kung pao” chicken and decided i was actually eating pigeon- or possibly something canine.

i spit out the half-gummed carcass, and tried the shu mai. it was stuffed with sausage and cold in the middle. strike two.

gyoza- like road kill wrapped in tire rubber. strike three.

did i keep going? yes.

my roommate attempted her “meal” next. sweet and sour chicken? no. “pizza?” no. sushi? definitely not.

we decided after her attempt at dessert and my inability to decipher if i was chewing lo mein or tape worms,

to run out of the place, puke in the parking lot, and drive the 27.5 miles home.

we each sucked down a camel light (didnt help) and then finished off my $2 container of hippy gum.

i dont think i will eat for the rest of today. whenver i look at my cat harold, i feel guilty cause i just ingested his cousin.

Vivienne Westwood at de Young

this weekend is the last that Vivienne Westwood’s “36 years in fashion” collection will be on exhibit at the de young museum in san francisco’s golden gate park. vivienne westwood

popularized the iconic “punk” fashion of the late 70’s and early 80’s. she incorporated the DIY look into her chicken bone t-shirts,

in her rubber bondage suits and in the incorporation of the scottish tartan:

my favorite (of course) had to be the “siouxsie shoe”
(sorry i couldn’t find a picture, but i swear they fuckin rocked! buckles and rubber. hot).
Vivienne created architecture for the body; with dips and peaks of fabric consistent through her pirate, scottish, corset, and ballgown collections. westwood takes a traditional style and totally fucks it up….but not completely. for instance, she makes a mockery of turn-of-the-century british fashion, by recreating the styles with original tweeds and wools, but she makes the jackets bright and over-sized, and adds crinoline to shorter and shorter skirts, and uses rubber penis buttons to close her shrugs. also, in her ballgown collection she twists tradition just enough- the gowns are gorgeous in their superfluity and not exactly typical- a border westwood enjoys teetering on

while clinging to her ideals of androgyny.

i couldn’t help but think desperately of the music popular during each of her creative explosions, which also lead me to seeing some of my favorite literature characters in some of her outfits . for instance dominique francon from ayn rand’s “the fountainhead” is (hard to describe) a demure woman with an unavoidable attractive casing and passive aggressive sexuality who enjoys emotionally torturing the man she obsesses over and loves. ok, that was the best description i could do for now. but she would wear this:

note the huge darts over each breast. i suddenly found myself in love with dominique, and then with vivienne westwood after walking and reading throughout her exhibit- it’s only stop in the US. i really enjoyed the show because it was different. it was kooky. it was beautifully executed and effortless. i like an experience that evokes thought and brow crinkles.