Mace v.1.3.10

I had to mention the old guy.

So we* went hiking at Big Basin on Sunday. Before getting started on our nine-plus mile hike, we stop at the bathroom and get our ducks in a row. I notice, as I walk into the bathroom, that there’s an older gentleman talking to some tourists, and I swear, as the door was closing, I heard him say, "… and I was surprised what good English she spoke." Which was weird, because the tourists looked like American Asian people to me. Perhaps I lacked the sharp eye of the older gentleman.

When I came out of the restroom, he was still standing nearby. I asked my friend to help tighten my laces**. He pulls, but not enough. I tell him to do it harder. Older gentleman takes this opportunity to tell my friend to "tie me up nice and tight." Friend and I look at each other, and try not to laugh too loud. Then he informs me that my boots "aren’t high enough" to protect me "from rattlesnakes." I don’t remember if I responded to him or not, but he continued, segueing from rattlesnakes to big cats***, mentioning that they can be 120-130 pounds, and stand as tall as a man on their back feet. We mutter some thanks to him, and are off on our merry way.

Merry is a pretty loose term. There was a mudslide, and we had to forage our own trail around the peanut-buttery mud, which poor Kristin stepped in. A bridge had washed out, so we had to find our own way across the raging creek. Five miles in I slipped on some mud and my knee felt a little weird. By the end of the hike I was pretty much carrying most of my right side on a stick I found along the way. Every time I think I’m getting closer to my Yosemite goal, I falter.

BTW, rattlesnakes spotted = 0. Big cats = 0. Small cats = 1 in the parking lot.

* Me, Kristin, Jeremy x 2. Jesse wasn’t feeling well, and Kurt fell off the face of earth.
** My boot laces totally rip up my hands! And since I’d already tightened them once, and my hands were cold, when I tried to touch them my hands throbbed. Little did I know how I would later bruise my hands clinging to a stick…
*** He never mentioned what kind of big cats we would encounter. I totally imagined a lion or jaguar. I’m pretty sure those aren’t native to the Santa Cruz mountains.

It’s not really that it took me this long to get my thoughts together; it just took this long to write them down. Why? Because even thinking about PR is boring by now.

I like to think about the designers from Season 1. Even though I was no big fan of Kara Saun the person, she did have an interesting eye. Her final collection, based on The Aviator, wasn’t my style at all (way too much leather), but was eye-friendly, and did show a good amount of ingenuity without saying “40’s glamour,” which may be my least favorite phrase ever. Jay’s collection was FANTASTIC and he totally deserved to win. It was vibrant and new and futuristic, which excites me in fashion. I loved every single thing on that runway, including the headphone things, which I didn’t understand, but were brilliant. I look at these two designers, and then the final three collections from Season 2, and I just don’t get it.

Daniel’s clothes were beautiful, and looked ready to be sold at Banana Republic. I realize that one of the prizes is an internship at BR, but does that mean you need to tailor your line to fit them? He kept talking about being so young and having a ‘fresh perspective,’ yet his clothing looked liked things I’ve already seen. I was rooting for Dan the whole way. I loved his improvised pink arch dress for ‘Social Scene.’ The orchids on his ‘Garden Party’ dress put him miles above anyone else.  His outfit for ‘Inspiration’ was, indeed, inspired. When I think of that challenge, and how his picture translated into fashion, I get goosebumps. So why was his inspiration for his Fashion Week line… wait, what was it?!? Military and Japanese? What? Sigh.

Santino… oh, Santino. I loved you. I loved your craziness, I loved your Timpersonations, and I loved your designs. Yes, they were often way too much, but it was so refreshing. So why? Why did you tone down your wonderfulness for your collection? Why was it so boring? Beautiful, yes, but it was like you were designing for some other label. And 40’s glamour? Sigh.

Chloe’s dresses were definitely the best up there, and she did deserve to win. As the judges said, she has a very good eye for a woman’s body. But Chloe didn’t really impress me, either. Having seen her work up to that point, and spending some time poking around her website, the clothes weren’t much of a stretch for Ms. Dao.

Man, writing this much has even bored me. At the same time, I totally can’t wait for Season 3.

Hooray. I was starting to worry that my upload hadn’t worked. But my very first project for Learning to Love You More is done and documented! I was going to make you all search through all the different assignments to find me, thus making everyone look through the site, but I guess I’ll be nice and let you know that it’s here. And don’t ask me who that woman is - you have to look it up yourself. I think that’s part of the point. Yay!

Today, at lunch in Fremont, at a nice little Afghan place, a man walked in who, from the back, looked exactly like my boyfriend Ryan from almost ten years ago. Ryan, who didn’t own jeans or believe in regular haircuts. Ryan, who taught me to do crossword puzzles in pen and how to drive. When he sat down, I got a good look at his face, and I’m 90% sure it wasn’t him. But who knows? Ten years can do a lot to a person. I got a hit on Friendster from a "Ryan" who lives in Longmont, CO. Which is doubly strange because that was the last known location of my very FIRST boyfriend, Ethan, who moved away and fell off the face of the earth, as far as I can tell. Until now*!

Seeing Ryanclone, or any other shadows of past loves, always leads me back to Google. I’m always curious about the lives of those I haven’t kept in touch with. It’s selfish, but I’m curious what impact I had on their lives. Then again, if it was a relatively positive impact, I’d probably still be on good terms with them and not have to sneak around on the internet to find out where they live, or if they’re married yet, or if I ever get mentioned on their blogs (I don’t).

I’ve had a project in the back of my head for a long time. In this, I write open letters to all of my boyfriends in order (haven’t figured out backwards or forwards chronologically). I want to thank each one of them for what they’ve given me. And probably apologize to a few that deserve it. I can kind of be a bitch.

* Thank you, internet! As I haven’t contacted him (yet), I’ll leave him his privacy.

Why on earth is the font changing halfway through my posts? I don’t get it. I tried to fix it, like, five times. Grrrrrr.

At the last Gril Movie Event, Becca Costello (who I adore, though I haven’t told her yet) mentioned her newfound love of Miranda July, and especially of her project Learning to Love you More. I’ve been lurking around this site for awhile. It is absoutely amazing.

Meanwhile, I found my cousin’s blog. I am floored by the 101 in 1001 project. I’d love to do somethin glike that, but I don’t think I’m ready just yet.

However, between the two of these, I am compelled to do SOMETHING. So I accepted an assignment from LTLYM. I’m not telling what, yet. I’ll let you know when I’m done.

I had some weird-ass dreams last night:

1. I arrive for some dance practice at a studio I have never been to before, although I seem pretty familiar with it. The room I’m using is down some stairs, with a huge paned window from floor to ceiling. Outside is a beautiful view of a small amount of beach and the ocean. As I’m warming up, the waves are getting larger and larger. I can see a tail sticking out of the water. Suddenly, a hammerhead shark the size of a city bus washes up on the beach. The undertow drags him back a little, but the next, bigger wave pushes him back up. I’m beginning to feel concern for the shark when the waves increase in size again and start crashing into the window. I start backing up towards the stairs when there’s a shattering sound and I look up. Near the ceiling, a great white shark has been caught in a window pane, halfway through. It’s holding still, but it’s eyes are looking around. In fact, its eyes were pretty human/cartoon looking, since they had pupils, and I’m pretty sure real sharks have little black beady eyes. I went running upstairs to tell the woman at the front desk that there was a shark halfway through the window, and she seemed pretty casual about the whole thing. My dance teacher, who had just arrived, apologized for being late, and I told her we should probably just cancel the class.
2. I’m driving city streets with Jesse. At some point, I pick up two more people who in reality I don’t know. We’re driving towards some county-fair looking place. Evidently there’s a wedding to take place there that I’m crashing. I keep trying to figure out how I know the bride and groom (who I never see during the course of the dream). I keep asking the people in the back seat, but they’re very vague. I pull into a dirt parking lot and try to find somewhere to park. Evidently it’s a wedding/swap meet, as there are people with booths or tables all over the parking lot with various kinds of wares. I find somewhere to park (after almost running over a piece of rope with a fancy “no parking” sign on it). We get out of the car and the back seat people open the trunk and start changing. I see Kathy Bates, who is evidently the mother of someone I know. I ask her is she knows how I know the bride and groom, and she doesn’t know either, and is in a hurry because the ceremony is going to start soon and she hasn’t changed either. I look back to the back seat people and they’re changing into Renaissance gear. I groan, and look up ahead of my car. There’s a huge amphitheater, almost straight up, and evidently breaking the laws of gravity because I can see into it, and it’s full of people in period costume. I decide maybe I don’t want to crash the wedding.

Bands that are banned from my car:

The Pretenders

The Beastie Boys

Green Day (after 2001)

Songs that I am not to be distubred during:

“Tear You Apart” by She Wants Revenge

“Jump Around” by House of Pain

Anything by Steely Dan