SCHMIDT: Every time you have sex with the same person, Jess, you die… just a little bit. It’s like a copy of a copy.
JESS: Lucky us, we get to go out looking for some straaange. Happy V-day, playa!
SCHMIDT: Every time you have sex with the same person, Jess, you die… just a little bit. It’s like a copy of a copy.
Do the things I wanna do
Not the ones I’m supposed to
Why can’t I get close to the better side of me
When I was young
Young the Giant debuted some new songs last night at Soma and this was my favorite…
More videos from the show here.
See more videos from the best day of my existence here.
So please don’t come to me on my dying day
Just let me go in peace
With all the things that I forgot to say
Racing through my mind
Sold out City and Colour show with Jessie and the hipsters last night! Is it just me, or does Dallas Green’s voice fix things in the universe?
After watching Justin Timberlake’s dry humping scene in Bad Teacher, I thought I could never love him again.
I was wrong.
Life’s too short to even care at all…
Come on, skinny love, just last the year…
After the Bon Iver show last night, Jessie and I met up with Shi, Christine and Antonio at The Local and drank away our sorrows till last call. And then we ate our feelings at Lucha Libre.
And then we went home alone and cried ourselves to sleep.
If there’s no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I’ll follow you into the dark
Three days of live music wasn’t enough for us, so Jessie and I kept the party going in SD last night at the Death Cab for Cutie show.
Now we’re both sick, and Jess is worried about the half marathon she’s supposed to run this Sunday, while I’m worried about not being able to taste the celebratory beer we’ll both be drinking after she crosses the finish line! Ha. Priorities…
Sooner or later, this is bound to stop
Come on, let’s savor what we’re falling for
Get out your guns, it’s time to start a fight
Whoa, and it won’t take too long
I want to make it right
I’m a little bit obsessed with this band.
This is me every day at work around 4pm.
I’m still sick, so I’m lying in bed with tissues lodged up my left nostril, coughing up my insides and watching this video of Paul Walker on repeat.
Boys, try not to fall in love with me.
I just want to put Chachi in my pocket and keep her forever.
Goapele at Anthology last night with my faves ♥
The last time I saw Linkin Park was on their Meteora tour in 2004 from the nosebleed section. Tonight, I got to see Mike Shinoda’s handsome face from ten feet away in the pit! My favorite performance was of One Step Closer, the first Linkin Park song I ever heard. Definitely takes me back!
Antho freestyling to Bel Biv Devoe’s Poison on Dance Central = highlight of my weekend.
My fave performance of the night! 30 Seconds to Mars is easily one of the top five bands I’ve seen live.
Ellen: [About him and Michelle Williams] I like you individually, I like you as a couple, I don’t know if you guys are a couple, you’re being cagey about it, I know that. If you’re a couple I’m all for it. Wait, you’re pedaling faster, what’s happening?
Ryan: I’m trying to get away from this conversation.
Can’t wait to watch Blue Valentine tonight with the girls!
I would not be mad if this kid fell out of my uterus. If watching this video doesn’t fill your heart with joy, then you are dead to me.
Yes, I realize there’s more footage of food than there is of my grandma. Get off me.
Fiiiiiinally checked Neon Trees off my concert bucket list! More videos here.
Zooey & Conan & Christmas ♥
I died when I watched this scene. DIED!
Oh, Jordan Catalano. I’d let you make out with me in the boiler room, even though you’d just ignore me at the Buffalo Tom show afterward. I can’t wait to see you on my birthday!
Few things make me happier than auto-tuned newscasts.
Shotgun trip to Vegas this past weekend. We ate at Studio B inside the M Resort. Twice. We watched the JBWKZ do chest pops. We floated down a lazy river. We managed to escape running into all the people from SD who were also in town for the weekend. It was more like a relaxing vacation than the usual trip to Vegas. No high heels. No clubs. No hangover. What has my life come to?
Chel: Mayan, can you think of a song I could use in this video?
Mayan: Mmmm, I’d have to check my library.
Pammie: Bruno Mars…
Mayan: And that is why Chel didn’t ask you for song suggestions.
Chel made this awesome video montage of our family camping trip this past weekend. And if you’re thinking, “Why would I want to watch a video montage of someone else’s family camping trip?” then might I add that there’s footage of me using a shake weight if that helps sway your decision at all. Just sayin’.
My mom remembered to bring my grandma’s birthday cake but left it melting in the car and forgot the candles, brought halo-halo toppings without realizing they were expired, and offered us pancakes, but didn’t have any syrup. I mean… this is my future, ya’ll. I am so my mother’s daughter.
All things considered, I had a memorable weekend camping with my Cuevas fam ♥
Thanks to Anthony for hosting dinner last night and sharing this hilarious monologue with us (four different times). The chicken
enchiladas parmesan was interesting, but I enjoyed the wine and company!
Valentine’s Day wouldn’t be complete without torturing yourself with bad romance movies.
I’m not gonna lie—my vagina is pretty excited.
Six years have passed, but you are not forgotten ♥
Don’t call me past 11pm
It won’t happen again
It happened once
It happened twice
It happened three times
Maybe four times
Maybe five times
Maybe, maybe it happened six times
But it won’t happen a seventh time
I love us. Thanks for making this, Chel ♥
I watched this in my film class and was inspired. Is it weird that I think it’s hot that J.J. Abrams knows what registration marks are?
We always have way more fun than it makes sense for us to be having :)
Pammie and I were lucky enough to get tickets to James Morrison’s sold-out show at the Belly Up in Solana Beach last night. I’ve been dying to see him since The Great Break-Up of 2006 when I had his album on constant rotation. He was well worth the wait!
I feel completely violated… Can I make it through one day without someone touching my butt? So I’m swaying my hips to Kanye last night, and this Mexican guy behind me is standing pretty close, but I’m like whatevs, we had floor tickets, so everyone was all kinds of close. But then I feel this guy’s hands on my hips and moving down towards my ass, and I’m like whoa, whoa, WHOA! I grabbed his wrists and pushed them away… I’m just not that kind of girl, no matter what you’ve heard on the streets! So anyway, the next song comes on and I’m still swaying and I feel his hands on me yet another time… and I’m like, Thisss bitch. His junk is on my ass and his hands are moving down my sides… WTF. I push him off me one more time. I should’ve punched him in his throat, but he was such a stoner (he smoked out my friend between ass grabs) and I was just trying to have a good time… Then something weird happened. I’m still dancing during Kanye’s set, and I feel his now familiar hands on my hips again, but this time he reaches for my hand and tries to entwine my fingers in his. What are we, on a fucking date or something?
Seriously, can I just find a decent guy who doesn’t feel me up without asking first? Can I? Can I?
No time to blog lately. School is kicking my ass. Maroon 5 show last weekend. Met the band. In love with Jesse… And mostly because he resembles Milo Ventimiglia since he cut his hair (which is kind of unfair, really). I used to be into their original drummer, Ryan, and even though I’m all about Jesse now, I’ll always have a soft spot for Adam. It’s like deciding which New Kid on the Block is your favorite all over again, Jordan or Joey (or Donnie, if you’re that kind of girl). Anyway, the show was amazing. We were sitting close enough for Pammie to catch a guitar pick from The Hives and a drumstick from Alex Greenwald, the lead singer of Phantom Planet. It was the end of their tour, so they played a lot of fun pranks on each other. Luckily, I was able to get it all on video…
Here’s Maroon 5 performing “Won’t Go Home Without You” (more from the show here)…
Still amp’d from the show, I stayed up till four or so in the morning watching “The Office” with Jay—not the greatest idea since I had an early morning flight to catch. Jay stayed the night since he was taking me and Pammie to the airport. Pammie woke me up in a rush 45 minutes before our plane was supposed to take off. It all happened so fast. I just remember running around the house trying to get our shit together and making sure everything was locked/turned off and screaming Jay’s name every couple of seconds to make sure his ass was up. We were the last two people on the plane, but we made it…
Before I knew it, we were in Vegas. I ate at multiple buffets, watched the Beatles LOVE show again, watched the Ice show at the Riviera, gambled away $250 of my own money (plus $60 of Pammie’s money)… and then it was time go home. Pammie didn’t have Monday off, so she flew home to the OC early in the morning. My parents and I were supposed to catch a flight to SD around eleven. It was like a repeat of Saturday, with us running towards the terminal. Dropping off the rental car was an unbelievably lengthy process. You have to return it miles away from the airport and then catch a shuttle back to the airport with a bunch of other people who are all carrying an even bigger bunch of luggage with them. By the time we got back to the airport, through security and to our gate, the plane hadn’t boarded yet, so we thought we were okay. The flight ended up being oversold, so all the boarding passes had already been taken and we were told we’d be on standby for the next flight… which turned into the next flight… and the next flight… and the next… and even more flights. We were on standby for SEVEN FUCKING HOURS. I read half a book that I bought from the gift shop. Learned how to do Sudoku. Tried to enjoy a venti iced soy chai tea latte. Finally, around 6 o’clock (and about an hour past when I was supposed to be at work), I go up the the gate where the millionth oversold flight to SD is about to leave and tell the Southwest lady that my family and I have been on standby for seven fucking hours and ask her why we’ve had to wait so long for a flight. She tells me that we’re the first people on the waiting list and she isn’t sure why people have been let on the previous flights before us. I’m standing there going… WTF! Mate! And it turned out that a few people who had already picked up their boarding passes for the oversold flight about to leave didn’t show up to board, so we were able to get on that flight. Before I boarded the plane, I snatched the wait list from her hands, ripped it in half and said, “You fucking remember me forever!”
…except I did not say fucking. Actually, that entire last sentence is completely untrue.
I just finished memorizing the titles, artists and dates of 75 paintings for part of just one of my midterms tomorrow. UGH! I’m such a procrastinator. I had an entire week off from school last week because of the fires, and instead of studying for my midterms, I baked some red velvet cupcakes, watched a concert at the Belly Up, taught myself how to knit (because I’m not enough of a spinster already), dyed Jay’s shorts Hooter-orange for his Halloween costume, changed my Myspace playlist… Le’sigh. I’ve vowed to start studying for finals early so that I’m not a stressed out biatch come December. I just want this week to be over with already…
Here’s a video from the Colbie Caillat show I went to…
I hit a girl. We were in the pit waiting for the Killers to be up and I hit a girl. She was clearly wasted, pushing and punching her way through the mass of people in front of the stage. I heard this commotion of people yelling behind me as this girl started fighting her way to the front. She tried to get past my sister and began punching her from behind. This bitch. She tried to get in front of me next and was digging her elbows into my back, and that’s when the ghetto child who grew up on Deep Dell came out. I pushed her off me and smacked the bitch. I have never in my life hit someone. Well, hit someone and meant it. Sometimes I get excited and push you in all my excitement, but that’s different. I kind of surprised myself (and Pammie and Tin and Jay and Meehchelle). I’m a fucking sweetheart, but I can be a bitch on wheels when push comes to shove. Especially if you’re fucking with me when I’m about to watch the Killers!
ANYWAY. The rest of my weekend rocked! Street Scene was SUCH a disappointment last year because of the unexpected no-shows… But this year, MUSE headlined, and I cannot get over how AMAZING they were. Matthew Bellamy is a musical genius. Muse is the greatest band I’ve ever seen live, hands down. Even Pammie was in the pit with me, jumping up and down and pumping her fists to lyrics she hadn’t heard before! They were EPIC. You should really do yourself a favor by going to one of their shows if you ever get the chance. They’ll be headlining Vegoose with Rage Against the Machine at the end of October, so try and make it out there if you can. You won’t be disappointed!
Here’s Muse performing “Butterflies and Hurricanes” at the show…
The Killers really improved from the last time we saw them at Street Scene a couple years ago and shortly after in LA. I loved their music back then, but their live performance was a little boring. They were awesome this time around… Here they are performing “Jenny was a Friend of Mine”…
This was my first time seeing Gym Class Heroes without Trace! Sad times… Here’s GCH performing one of her favorites, “Viva la White Girl”…
Other mentionable artists I saw include the Arctic Monkeys, Panic! at the Disco, Pepper, Z Trip, T-Pain, T.I. and Too $hort (biiiiitch!). The $100+ two-day pass was worth Muse alone. I’m going to see Kate Earl at the Hotel Cafe in LA tomorrow night, so I’ll have more vids from her show up this weekend. Till then, check out the rest of my VIDEOS from Street Scene, Incubus and my best friend, Trace, rocking the recorder.
Summer tours are my favorite thing about summer…
More videos from this past weekend’s Incubus show here.
So you’re shopping on Melrose and you only have, oh, let’s say, $5.96. (I’m just throwing a number out there.) You can either try and find something affordably vintage at Wasteland or buy a cup of deliciousness at Pinkberry instead! It’s only the greatest frozen treat you’ll ever taste in your life. Every reason I could think of why I’d never want to live in LA was forgotten once Pinkberry hit my lips. Why am I so butt-crazy about Pinkberry, you ask?
Paris Hilton eats at Pinkberry
- Being NONFAT and just twenty-five calories per ounce made me feel less guilty about those chicken and waffles I later ate at Roscoe’s. And the ham and cheese croissant I had for breakfast at Southcoast. And the chicken sandwich I had for lunch at Auntie Em’s. With avocado. And bacon. And Shi’s bacon because she doesn’t eat bacon (I don’t understand it, but I won’t judge her). And fine, the two cupcakes I also devoured from Auntie Em’s. Get off me.
- Awesome toppings like Cap’n Crunch, fresh fruit (mangoes!), MOCHI (Japanese rice cakes), Fruity Pebbles, chocolate chips…
- It’s the only place I know that offers green tea froyo.
- Pinkberry is tart like sherbet. There’s supposedly a lawsuit involving Pinkberry’s owner and the FDA because she won’t disclose what’s in it. I personally think it’s made of happiness and crack.
- Tigra from L’Trimm sings the Pinkberry jingle (Cars That Go Boom, anyone?).
I could go on and on about my love for Pinkberry, but instead I’ll tell you about my awesome weekend in LA. I had work till eleven o’clock at night all last week, and looking forward to this weekend was the only thing keeping me sane. I drove up after work on Friday and crashed at Pammie’s in the OC. Shi and Chel were fading in and out of sleep by the time I got there at one, but Channing Tatum kept me awake till four in the morning watching She’s the Man. Damn, he’s fly! The four of us hit up the H&M in Southcoast first and we ended up running into people we knew from SD. It’s weird when you see people you know from home in a completely different city. Especially people you aren’t very fond of. ANYWAY. We had lunch at Auntie Em’s Kitchen in Eagle Rock afterwards. Their cupcakes were featured on Bobby Flay’s Throwdown and Pammie’s been raving about them ever since. We didn’t get to try their famous red velvet cupcakes, because the biatch in front of us snagged the last two. Oh, well. She was really skinny and needed the cupcakes more than we did. They had really good food there otherwise, and we got to try the chocolate and carrot cake cupcakes (our favorite!).
Afterwards, we hit up Gallery 1998 on Melrose to check out Kurt Halsey’s exhibit. It was beautifully intimate! It closes tomorrow, so stop by if you’re near the area. We were browsing through the shops on Melrose when we saw this crazy line at the Pinkberry across the street. We decided to try it, and I’ve been a changed woman ever since. After my first bite, I was like Hmm. This is pretty good. Then I bit into some Cap’n Crunch and was like Oh my, this is ridiculous! When it was over (and it was over fast), I was like Did I really just eat this entire thing? I almost ate the cup. It was that good. Don’t take my word for it, though. Go get some and call me while you’re eating it. Because I love Pinkberry so much that the mere thought of listening to you eat Pinkberry excites me—Yes, it has been entirely too long since I’ve had a man in my life. Anyway, we continued shopping on Melrose and everyone found cute stuff except for me. I was thisclose to buying this gorgeous mustard bag from some random boutique, but thought that I really shouldn’t be spending $50 on a bag when I’m trying to save for me and Dy’s apartment. The only thing I bought that day were shoes from H&M with a curious semen-like stain on them. Ugh. Shi graciously treated us out to dinner at Roscoe’s House of Chicken & Waffles. We somehow rolled ourselves back to Pammie’s apartment close to midnight and Chel and Shi drove back home to SD.
On Sunday, Pammie and I slept in and ate a late lunch at Sonic Burger—Yet another food chain I wish they had in SD. I don’t know why they tease us with Sonic commercials on TV when they only have one location in the OC for everyone in southern California to eat at. There’s upwards of ten Sonic Burgers up north in Bakersfield. There is nothing to do in Bakersfield. I’m sure that all anyone does there is eat at one of the many Sonic Burgers they have to choose from. And that would be perfectly fine by me. We hit up the Beverly Center where we weathered the most annoying elevators I have ever been on and returned my only purchase from the day before. The aforementioned semen-like stain repelled the soap and water I used to try and lift the stain the night before. It was like that one time I was ten and spilled nacho cheese on my shirt while watching Three Ninjas at the movies. Fearing my mom would yell at me, I went to the bathroom and tried to wash the stain out, but the nacho cheese spread into this huge orange mess, so I turned my shirt inside out thinking no one would notice… even though the stain was equally visible on the inside of my shirt. At least H&M let me return the shoes. We ate a vegetarian dinner at M Café de Chaya with my cousin and her friend who both live in LA. It was the only healthy thing I ate all weekend. The best part, though, was that M Café was right next door to Pinkberry on Melrose. I had me some more Pinkberry goodness (with MOCHI topping this time… FYI: You have to ask for it because it’s not on the menu). By the time we had gotten back to our cars, both my cousin and I had received parking tickets for having our cars parked on the street after six. Where the fuck did it say that? I looked around and found a very confusing parking sign, and clearly, it wasn’t confusing to just me because every car parked on that street had a parking ticket. Apparently, these confusing parking signs are rampant in LA. Bah.
After dinner, we headed out to the Hollywood Bowl nearby to see John Mayer. It was our first time at that venue, so we weren’t sure where it was exactly. We just parked at the first paid parking lot we saw on Hollywood and Highland and ended up trekking almost a mile up to the show. I’m sure I burned the calories from at least that second Pinkberry I had that day. The Hollywood bowl was GIGANTIC and crowded and pretty awesome. We don’t even have a venue in SD that compares to this in size. Ben Folds was the opener and he was alright, but he didn’t sing The Luckiest which is pretty much the only song I know and like from him. John Mayer was really, really good. I’ve seen him one time before in SD and this show was so much better! This was an add-on show, and he had played the Bowl the night before, so he didn’t sing some of the songs we hoped he would (Comfortable, Stop This Train, In Repair), but he did sing some of my old favorites. He seems like a very grateful, charming guy who knows how to entertain. There are few things I dislike more than going to a show and being bored. Jack Johnson hardly uttered a word in between songs when we saw him last, but that didn’t stop Edgar from being the happiest person on earth! Ha, ha. Engaging the audience in between songs makes for a better show, in my opinion. John Mayer really delivered. By far, the highlight of my night was when he opened one of my favorite songs, 3×5, with Springsteen’s I’m On Fire:
I’m unbelievably starstruck, so it’s probably a good thing I don’t live in LA. Although San Diego does have its share of homegrown celebrities (Um, hi? AC Slater?). We ran into Schuyler Fisk and Joshua Radin on our way to our seats, and I just about died. Pammie was like, “Wait, who are they?” You’re probably thinking the same thing. I saw Joshua Radin a couple years back on the Hotel Cafe tour and Schuyler Fisk is his ladyfriend (also a singer/actress). It’s a good thing Paris Hilton’s in jail. My stomach would’ve fallen out of my butt if I ran into her at Pinkberry.
Before I dropped off Pammie in the OC after the show, we stopped by Diddy Riese in Westwood for cookies (as if I didn’t eat enough unhealthy food that weekend). As I drove home from LA, I sighed at each and every Pinkberry-less mile.