Photoblogging Friday 6.29.07

Today is a very special day. This evening, my one-time partner in crime and always willing whore, C-dub is getting married. To a very nice man, which is always a bonus.

In honor of this monumentous event, here's a picture C-dub and I worked on 2 years ago. It's an homage to another really psycho chick, Courtney Love.

Heroin-chic is SO cool!

"Who's crazy?"

Congratulations, honey. It's probably a good thing I'm not there tonight to get drunk and let slip all those stories! But I do wish you a life of love and happiness with your wonderful husband.



Call Me Scarecrow

I have sat down to write this post 3 times over the last 4 hours. 3 times staring at the screen and completely forgetting what it was I had to say.

I'm so addled, I've even rechecked the site multimple times to see if I'd already posted something.

Why is my brain is broken? It's a little early for Alzheimer's, no? I swear I haven't done any drugs. Except for that one Corona last night.

L'sigh. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.


My Name is Not Isabel

On Saturday, I met the rest of the man's family.

GPG: Hi, you must be the favorite cousin.

His favorite cousin: And you must be Isabel! He talks about you all the time. It's so nice to finally meet you.

GPG: *evil grin* No, Isabel must be his OTHER girlfriend.

She felt horrible about fucking up my name. I know there's no "Isabel," so I merely took it as license to tease him about an imaginary other woman. Now, when I call him at work, I say it's Isabel calling.

I'm not letting this one go for a while. It's comedic gold.


All Hail the X-Girl!

One of our favoritest peoples over here at Exxy HQ has apparently been blogging surreptiously, though I finally found her out and now am quite happy to let the world in on who this hottie with a brain can and will do for you.

Sasha with an X, who I lovingly refer to as Lex because she has the carnal AND intellectual power to be an evil dominatrix/mastermind, but chooses to channel this into simply being fabulous. I love this girl like I love my boobs: deeply and without question. And I demand that you should too (love my boobs and Lex).

She's one of the best drinking buddies and camera whores a GPG could have asked for, and we've been known to do a little damage together. Like the time with that location manager after having a few too many over at Boardwalk 11.

Oh, how I miss those nights.

She's a real writer, which guarantees that her blogs will read like normal, engaging English and NT LiKe thIS. You know I don't care for "industry" people, but one of her screenplays made me cry actual tears, so I can attest that she's the real deal and not just some airhead transplant clogging the internets with her vanity.

Plus--as her boobs clearly advertise--she does all her own stunts. How can you not love that?

Go read
Commentary from the Realm of Alexandra now.


Photoblogging Friday 6.22.07

I worked way too hard this week. Up at 5 am, zombie-faced through the days...at least most nights I was given free alcohol. My life is really not that difficult. Especially Tuesday night, when I got three of my favorite things (with added bonuses):

- scotch (with a guy)
- steak (with props from the powers that be)
- this view from 300 feet above Los Angeles (with wine):

Go west, young ladySunset over the Santa Monica & Harbor freeways interchange

This is looking west from the penthouse of the AT&T building in downtown LA. Also known as the restaurant Windows, which is about to close on July 1st. It's a damn shame too because while the food is just okay, the view is ridiculous. 360 degrees of the entire city from the 32nd floor. Right above the Convention Center, where I have languished for the last 2 days. Tradeshows suck.

But at least I got this picture.

And scotch. And a story about how a guy agonized over asking a girl out. Told by a bartender who had just figured out that I was the girl in the story.

Did I mention I also love 23 year old bartenders in naughty librarian outfits?

It was a good week.


Behind Every Successful Spook

First thing I'm going to do as an international spy--after cleaning my gun, of course--is acquire me a Greek manservant.

He'll be like an Alfred. Though I don't exactly plan on being a superhero, because that's just too much responsibility.

But every girl spy needs a butler.

Like Gerard Butler.



Sibling Protection

The New Man met my brothers Friday night. He and my older brother, Big Fish, hit it off immediately. So much so that I was left out of the conversation completely, despite sitting right in between them all night.

They talked football and shit while I tried navigating between them to scoop spinach dip on my plate. It was a little annoying. But I was relieved that they were bonding. That's kind of important, if he's going to be around and all.

As we were getting ready to leave, they said their good-byes and all of a sudden, Big Fish said, "don't fuck with my sister!"

I fell out of my chair laughing. I was expecting that from my baby brother definitely, but the older one has never really taken an interest in my dates. This was a nice exception.

The Man, confident that he is (it's so hot), just laughed and assured him he had no intention of it. But that he'd been expecting some kind of warning eventually.

It was awesomeness squared. I really do love my brothers.


They Should All Come Housebroken

While watching one of our favorite movies Two Can Play that Game, the following light-hearted conversation took place:

Him: Oh this shit is funny!

Her: *laughs* I'd never do that to you. That's just too much damn effort.

Him: Good, because I don't like games.

Her: Don't worry, I'm not going to play any. *kiss*


Her: But if you told me you were working late, and then I catch you drinking and dancing with a hot girl at the bar, how would you expect me to react?

Him: It's just dancing.

Her: But you told me you were working late.

Him: *thinks* You'd probably pitch a fit. Damn Puerto Ricans!

Her: So you're never going to do that, are you?

Him: *sighs* Nope.

It's good to train them early.


Overheard in the Family #4

My brother's fiancee is 7 1/2 months pregnant and suffering from a myriad of back problems because of it.

Pregnant Z: And then he gave me a massage.

GPG: Aw, aren't you the sweetest fiancé?

PZ: Yes he is. Thanks, babe.

Baby Brother: Can I get a thank you later tonight?

PZ: *freaking out* Don't talk about that!!! Not in front of your parents!

*Everyone busts out laughing.*

BB: Babe, it's not like they don't know. Look at yourself!

Seriously. She's not giving birth to Jesus. The baby is being named after Russian kings, not Mexican gardners, for chrissakes!


Photoblogging Friday 6.15.07

Today is my baby brother's birthday. He's 26. Just in time for his first father's day. Which means I should probably stop referring to him as my baby brother. Except he'll always be the baby and we could be in our 100s and I'd still be calling him that. So oh well.

Here's what he looked like at my
spicnic birthday party a few weeks back:


Nameless, playing the westside homie

Is he a terrorist or is he a gangbanger? It's hard to say. He wears a white collar a little too well.

Happy birthday, sweetheart!!


There's More Good than Bad

Piss-poor combinations:

  • scotch + PMS + the stupidity of men
  • pasta + diet coke + my hatred of pasta
  • work + lack of sleep + apathy

Excellent combinations:

  • roses + riding in cars with boys + kisses
  • party invitations + new dress + fabulous date
  • a big bed + clean sheets + an afternoon off of work
  • red lipstick + anything else
Red lipstick trumps it all.

Excuse Me While I Ramble

I was drinking scotch again last night. With a random New Zealander who didn't mind me yelling at the tv because the Cavs lost or the fact that I kept making jokes about how he lives in the upside down part of the world.

That's why there's nothing of substance here today.

I did introduce two of my favorite men to each other, though. Neither of which is a Kiwi. One was Spanky. The other is a man to be named later.

I have to stop getting home at 1 am...


Falling in Love in My Free Time

You may have noticed I took a few days off last week from the daily posting. Or not. I don't really know what you notice, but the stats say you keep coming back so something must be right. You might also be wondering what the hell I've been doing if not keeping you entertained during the Exxy Dark Period.

Answer: I was losing myself to a new vice and enjoying the shit out of it like you would not believe. At 29, I've discovered yet something new that gets me tingly all over my body, starting from my lips and going all the way down to my toes.

Tuesday night, Spanky gave me advice while I gave him alcohol. It's a nice payment system we have worked out: retainers via booze. As I swallowed it down slowly yet hungrily, I pleasured him with a story about the mistake that led to my infatuation with a tantalizing 18-year-old.

Cleverly, he asked what the mistake's name was. I simply flashed him that trademark
smile he so enjoys.

Wednesday night another lawyer, a little more forceful than the previous night's companion, introduced me to a 21-year-old he insisted I try. And in that first instant, it was all over. As I sat taking in more and more, I fell deeper and deeper into an obsession that will probably be the death of me.

I thought heaven was found in a double shot of chilled fine tequila. As it turns out, it's actually in a glass of
The Balvenie single malt scotch.

5 glasses later I was throwing back truffles with none of those pesky caffiene-induced
side effects that usually cramp my fun. So not only have I discovered the perfect alcohol, I've found the cure to my allergy: high-end scotch!

To quote someone smarter than me: I love scotch! Scotchy, scotch, scotch!

Now all I need is to cultivate a love for cigars and I might actually become the perfect woman.

Till then, all you get is little ol' me. Back from the dark.



Overheard in the Family #3

My brother took his kids to the Time for Heroes Celebrity Carnival today. I was almost tapped to go in his place, but they rearranged their schedules at the last minute and I was allowed some desperately needed sleep instead.

It wasn't just flesh-and-blood celebs that milled about, the Care Bears, Power Rangers, Disney Princesses and their ilk were also on hand to blow the minds of little children. Who came to dinner covered in paint and deliriously happy from all the madness and free toys.

This is how the adults talked over their heads:

Big Brother: C-note likes the Power Rangers.

GPG: Oh yeah? Who's the pink one?

C-note: My daddy! [This is his standard answer for everything]

Big Brother: There is no pink one.

Sister-in-Law: G-brat doesn't like them.

G-brat: I like Caillou.

Pregnant sister-in-law-to-be: What's Caillou?

SiL: You have to watch children's tv to get it.

Dad: He looks like Charlie Brown. Very bald.

SiL: Yeah, Charlie Brown...on chemo.

Take it from Britney, kids: bald is not necessarily beautiful.


Photoblogging Friday 6.8.07

Things are good in our world. Despite the fact that the country's grossest celebrity was released from jail after a mere 3 days of her 26-day sentence, many other wonderful events have occured. A bunch of Canadian boys brought a cup to So Cal for the first time ever and another Canadian couple welcomed a baby girl into the mix.

In honor of the latter, here's a snap of a little girl who's had us all wrapped around her finger from the moment she was born:

Where's my daddy? Summer 2002

It's so very hard to believe she's nearly 6 years old now. Time flies as you watch them grow up.

To Jay and M-E: congratulations. Here's to little girls who'll steal your heart.


Just a Teaser

I swear my personal and professional life will eventually chill out and I will regale you once again with sexual innuendo and my new found love for yet another naughty vice.

In the meantime, go congratulate and then wish Jay luck. He and his wife just had a baby! Delirious happiness is theirs.


The Mutual Admiration Society, New York Chapter

It was 10:30 pm in his world and he sounded like hell.

"How are you?" she asked, concerned.

"Oh," he started. "Between traveling overseas and moving here and this job. I'm just so..." He sighed.


"I can't even begin to describe it."

"God, I know exactly how you feel," she empathized, as she started on her 11th hour in the office. A practice that was becoming much too routine.

"Tell me," he responded, the exhaustion clear in his voice.

"No sweetie, you're obviously very tired. Go to bed."

"It was really, really good to hear your voice," he offered in recompense.

"And you know you can call me anytime. Whether you need to vent, or just to tell me that you love me!" she laughed lightheartedly.

"Honey, I love you," he said with such sincerity, it nearly broke her heart all over again.

"And I love you."

She let him go to sleep and turned back to her own insurmountable work, calmer. With a small, wistful smile on her face.


May by the Numbers

The birthday month is always the best on record. As far as I'm concerned, the year starts on May 1st and everything prior to that day is just a warm up.

This year it was fucking fantastic.

1 stunningly glowing review received for a job well done, again
2 Cinco de Mayo celebrations
1 pair of underwear lost to a rabid dog

12 miles driven for that privilege
3 moms at a Mother's Day garden brunch
1 G-brat being picky and proud of it
12 pink roses bestowed on her for an amusing dance debut
15 dollars spent between me and the Princess trying to win tickets at Chuck E. Cheese

3 major birthdays celebrated
9 separate birthday celebrations for me alone
4 of which included a sushi dinner - yum!
1 surprise cake with lawyers
1 happy birthday sung by my own curly-haired rock star
9 days between the date and his finally calling to apologize for missing it
5 more days until he arrived to make up for it in person

2 tequila sensations made by the hottie ninja bartender
2 piñatas
5 blindfolded adults battling to bust one open
510 dollars received in birthday cash

5-10: my actual date of birth
5'10": the height I currently have to reach to get a good night kiss
2 nights spent doing just that

3 musicians hung out with in a single weekend
2 photographed playing with the Krazy kids
7 photo shoots
1 case of mistaken identity prior to winning on American Idol
2 unfortunate run-ins with a Cat Burglar

3 mentees adopted for the next TNT running season
4 consecutive days off
5 ladies who lunch
2 noisy Lear jets out the window
5 glasses of champagne imbibed
3 Tums needed for that silliness
23 blogs posted
13 of which were about my birthday
0 spankings received for turning 29
1 29-year-old brat currently loving life


Photoblogging Friday 6.1.07

I know I usually run the numbers on the first of the month, but I've been lazy. Actually, not so much that as preoccupied. So, you'll wait another day or so for the quantified month of May. It won't kill you.

Instead, some abstract art:

Blue balls?
Cherries in reverse color, aka "Life is..." (2001)

Back from when I was still playing with film in 2001, it's a negative image from a positive slide. I was going through a phase where I was trying to match cyans and magentas. Because it's really easy to shoot things that are red, but not so much it's bluish counterpart.

The same thing is obviously quite easily done in Photoshop now, but this was actual darkroom work.

If you don't know what that means, nevermind. Just enjoy the imagery.

I like that it looks like sperm, kinda.