let me eat cake...

i had a chance to take in a sunday matinee of marie antoinette. i read
the new yorker review prior to attendance, so i knew i was in for.
despite the anthony lane's scathing (and hilarious) review, i still
trumped over to the amc van ness with nicholas for an afternoon treat.

i have to begin by saying that it was very difficult to get into this
film. it had a very slow beginning with a number of scenes that seemed
either too long or not crucial to the story development. don't you
hate that? i do. immediately i start looking at my cell to see what
time it is, thus trying to calculate how long this pitty of a film
will be. this happened when i went to see "the lake house" (yes, i saw
it). so roughly 20 minutes into the film i began to get somewhat
comfortable. i never really got into the dialogue (because there
wasn't much). i didn't enjoy the jason schwartzman as the dauphin--i
didn't believe him and i kept seeing "weird ethan" in his eyes,
kristen dunst reminded me of sour, retarded milk--can milk be
retarded--and all in all the movie missed its mark.

coppala's intent was clear. she was hoping do skillfully intertwine
eighteenth century france with modern day. fair enough, right? but it
was off on so many accounts. the converse, the language, the behavior
of the characters, the music, the overall indulgence somehow didn't
gel in the way one would have expected. somehow there manages to be a
great disconnect in the film. perhaps it isn't cohesive due to her
choice of actors? or maybe she's trying too hard? i can tell she's
trying to tap into some greater meaning. nicholas suggested that
perhaps the 80s tunes (i.e.bow wow wow, siouxsie and the banshees)
where a failed attempt at coppala creating a comparison between
over-the-top way of the 80's to that of revolutionary france.

anthony lane suggests that paris hilton directed the film. i found
this hilarious, but i do feel that the redeeming quality of the flick
was it's decadence. being the sort of gal that i am i can't shy away
from luxurious fabrics, unforgiving colors, ornate design, perfect
curls, cupcakes, candy, pastel poker chips, ribbons, porcelain tea
cups, champers (champagne), luscious bedding, dramatic dress, and a
delicate french backdrop, so for those things alone, i enjoyed the
film. it made me want to lie around and relish in dainty eats all day,
dress wale-bone corsets, pick out shoes, and bitch about who's who's
in the french social scene. oh and make "nice" with sexy soldiers.

i did however walk away with a sparked interest for marie antoinette
and i'm interested in picking up a copy of antonia fraser's book, upon
which this film is based. i guess any girl who supposedly tells a
bunch of starving people to "eat cake," is a no nonsense darling after
my own heart. the movie wasn't great, but i'm glad i saw it. and to be
honest, because it was so pretty, i'd see it again.

word of the day

SLAG

WHY: i like the movement of the jaws when saying it. and it's a hot insult to call someone a slag

MEANING: 1. also called cinder. the more or less completely fused and vitrified matter separated during the reduction of a metal from its ore.

2. to form slag; become a slaglike mass

3. residue

USE IT IN A SENTENCE: gavin is hot and i hope he runs again. i'll gladly be his young girlfriend once he gets rid of that SLAG he's dating now.

can i holla at chu?

ERRRRGGG, very uncool way to begin my tuesday. i was "attacked," but a dreadlocked something as i was making my way to starbucks (would have rather had peets) for my morning coffee. i expressed the fact that i was in a hurry, i don't give out my phone number, and i didn't want to talk. i thought i rid myself of the guy, but lo and behold when i walked out of "bucky's" there he was--clad in a camoflogue hoodie, green hat, and jeans. i was on the phone with my beloved mother and tried to make the call seem more important than it was. he stopped me and asked, "can you talk now." i responded with a quick "no, i'm on an important call and i need to get into work." he left...thank jebus.

the point of this rant, is because i'm tired of being approached by men who are clearly not my style or type. just because i'm black doesn't mean i want to date a guy in a hoodie with rims on his lexus. in fact, i don't care about that. he'd probably just want to sleep with me then loaf off of me...been there, done that and i'm not doing it again. i know it's horrible for me to sterotype a group of guys, but why is every black man that approaches me so FUCKING AGGRESSIVE. i like assertive, not obnoxiously agressive. look, no means no. i'm not interested in you tryin to "holla." BLARG...

oh no dawling, keep the change

there are so many things i want. i'm sure it's a combination of living in consumer culture and the fact that my mother had no trouble (and still doesn't) with indulging me. on the "to have" list this week:

a) a mani
b) a new pair of red pumps
c) a knit red hat
d) new La Luz candles
e) sushi dinner

i'm sure all of it won't happen (in fact i'm positive it won't), but i like wanting things. however, the reason why it won't all come to pass is because of....yup, money! now why is it that we can't pay people in ice cream. there is plenty of it, it tastes better than pennies or dollar bills, and it leaves one with options. i mentioned to Amanda (jebus, i miss that girl) that when she returns i'm going to take her out for dessert at citizen cake. i'm going to dub that our date spot. i'm taking her there for a number of reasons (she likes it, i like it, it's quaint), but most of all i'm taking her there for payment. i'm repaying her in dessert for being one of my favorite people and i'm sure for some reason i owe her cash (i owe everyone, even the irs). she will be pleased with this form of payment, i'm sure. everyone is happy when you pay people in dessert be it ice cream, cupcakes, cookies, truffles, or rum balls.

*you may think this post is making no sense, but i like it...it's making my cavities hurt

cow branding

i'm not really into cow branding, although if it helps someone pick out a better piece of steak than let's do it. i'm kidding!

i'm the cow, and i need to be branded. i don't know who even reads this blog anymore, but if you know what's been going on with me as of late, you are well aware of some of my outside projects and my hope to become a big name in the mktg./publicity world. so i'm currently doing some freelance work for a style website, and i've also adopted (not black babies) some freelance publicity projects. i'm a girl on the go--attending events, sucking down cocktails, and networking. and regardless of my pathetic checking account, i'm seemingly fabuloous (tooting of the horn...awww beep beep awww toot toot).

any who, i need to be branded. i'm sticking my butt out so stamp a seal on it! i need a website, i need a logo, or a sexy design, a treo, and a new handbag (my bag is so tired). ok, maybe i don't really need the last two that badly, but i need to up my contacts list and get recognized. if i want prime san francisco property, a winter condo in palm springs, and a black AMEX i need to get on this. if you have any ideas for branding, please send them over. this is my new project and i want your help, cuz i luuuuuh you!

word of the birthday

i'm on a roll.

word of the day: STRUMPET

why: because i said so and i really like the way it sounds.

today is laura aka blaurablog's "burfday." she is just getting so much celebratory action these days. i attended her bachlorette on saturday, which is the real reason for my mention of her. it was so fun. she was scantily clad in a tutu, bunny ears, a garter , and a t-shirt with commands such as "give a beer bottle a blow job," "let a random guy do body shots off of you," "give away your garter," "eat a chocolate cock at the bar and ask the guy if he minds," "kiss a bartender," and "show your right nipple," to name a few. laura was a good sport about this. she was by far the best bride yet--i guess she was channeling those sorority days. david really is a lucky guy to have laura ...FOREVER and oscar is a lucky pup to have her too. we stumbled our way through the mission (beauty bar, skylark & double dutch) with penis straws, drunken smiles, and more booze in our belly than we knew what to do with (beside puke). laura's friend brooke and i donned "tramp stamps" indicating our single status. all and all it was good fun, but i don't think laura will be reliving her last time as a STRUMPET (use it in a sentence) on this, her lovely birthday. below are a few photos of the evenings debachery....(p.s. don't show my mom). Do you think we were STRUMPETS?

black babies are the new birkin

If this is true than I can get rich pretty easily. Black babies seem to be a hot comodity in Hollywood. So, if I pop out a few does that mean that I'll reap the monetary benefits of well tanned offspring? Probably not, because at the rate I'm going my children won't be pure breed, since I don't date very many black men. They'll be muts, so I won't get as much money for them...damn.

This brings me to my next topic of discussion. I've been dating more. I've been going out more. Which means, I've been drinking more (my liver runs marathons). But back to the first point. I've been dating more. Now I had a date back in August and the follow (or lack thereof) was wretched. However, I met a gem--Southern Hottie--and we reconnected last weekend. Exquisite, I tell you. I also managed to sneak in a dinner date on a school night with "Apple." Apple is cute and, despite Nicholas's contempt for Jonathan Rhys Meyers, Apple resembles him (J.R.M, not Nicholas). Any who, while I have had no shame in expressing my wish for a boyfriend, I like dating right now, it's fun.

My mother thinks this is obsurd and I should, "wait on God" and that SF is filled with weirdos. I came back at her by stating that people in Riverhell do the same thing, only they meet at TGI Friday's. To be honest, I don't really care if she thinks dating is crazy. Someday, my date will become my claim to fame. Because he will assist me in producing an impure blood line and we'll get rich off of it. While black babies are the new birkin, half black babies well become the new vintage chanel.

dining in fantasyland

New methods are always welcomed if you ask me and that is why I took Bart to work (that and I can't afford gas). Taking Bart isn't exactly new for me, but it never ceases to refresh. Over the weekend my October issue of Elle arrived so I toted it along today for riding reading material.

After reading this article about "not-so-perfect" wifery, I came across a really cool Q&A with CFDA Womenswear Designer of the year, Costa del Soul. They asked him "Who are your fantasy dinner party guests?" What a great question. I marveled at this. His answer: Picaso, Maplethorpe, Diana Vreeland, Elizabeth Taylor, Harry Potter, Louis Armstrong, and Diana, Princess of Wales.

All day I've been thinking of my fantasy dinner party guests...I think I have an idea of who I would invite.

-Truman Capote (that's a given--damn he was a partygoer & he could hold his liquor)
-Audrey Hepburn
-Mary Shelley
-Billie Holiday (for sassy entertainment)
-Diane von Furstenburg
-Johnny Depp (he's nice to look at)
-Coco Chanel
-Andre Leon Talley
-Humbert Humbert
-Yves Klein (i love blue)
and
-a few of my refined friends (but that's not fantasy)

Before meeting in a grand dining room--the one with 12 ft. ceilings, brocade dining chairs and a table fit for a queen--we'd lounge around the sitting room on decade sitting poufs, drinking Campari, sidecars & manhattans--maybe even Veuve Rose, while enjoying canapes for hors d'overs, and talk about two of my favorite things--literature and fashion! Tres magnific...Can I move to fantasy land?