Friday, October 16, 2009

We're going on a cruise in early 2010

Me: Alexa
Me: I officially call it:
Me: we are a Duo
Me: a cinema-worthy duo
Alexa: Done.
Alexa: I cannot out-call that call

Friday, October 9, 2009

This is a Michael Jackson post

I'm laying on our new squishy, soft, cloud-like couch watching my Michael Jackson: Live In Bucharest: The Dangerous Tour DVD for maybe the third time in a week.

My This Is It movie ticket is already in my wallet, awaiting the Tuesday, October 27 at 9pm (Pacific Time) premiere. I will be wearing a Michael Jackson t-shirt and sparkly glove that night.

When I was little, I remember my mother liking Michael Jackson and being excited about his song/video tied into Free Willy. I decided I also liked the song, video, and performer around that time. Yeah, mom was onto something with this guy.

That was in 1993. I have liked Michael Jackson for 16 years. It's more impressive when you realize that I was not quite six years old yet when Free Willy came out. That's sixteen years of my twenty-two years of life.

When I was sixteen, my little sister and I did a duet jazz dance class together. On Day 1, we said we wanted our recital piece to be to "Beat It," and we wanted to use hats. We practiced at home using our mother's old cassette tape. Not long after that, I decided I needed "real CDs" (I only had a handful of albums then, mainly Backstreet Boys and such). My first purchase: Michael Jackson Number Ones, and I believe the Numbers Ones music videos DVD was actually a gift from my mommy.

Mother and I were hardcore TEAM MICHAEL during the 2005 trial, and jumped around with each announcement of "not guilty." I looked at the cost of airfare to go to London for the O2 shows (mother said that was too unlikely). Then I was outside UCLA hospital an hour after he was pronounced dead. It's weird that that is as close as I could ever be to him.

So yeah. Sixteen years. 72% of my lifetime.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Emily, The Couch Destroyer

I know, I know...we suck at updating, but I hope this tidbit is worthwhile:

Today, I disassembled a couch in the hallway. It was either that, or use some ropes to lift it out over the third-floor balcony.

My old roommate Lizzy has gotten married and moved out, so new roommate Tanya moved in. Today her furniture arrived—"adult furniture," if you will. As in, a real couch/chair/ottoman set, that is not from IKEA.

Amy's old white leather couch was slowly dying and sinking into itself, so it was time to say goodbye. But the couch wasn't ready to leave us. It fought its way out into the hallway, and refused to fit into the elevator at any angle. Then Amy informed us that they definitely hoisted it into the apartment with an improvised balcony rigging system.

So there it sat, in the middle of the third floor hallway, as we girls called/texted/facebooked for help. We were ready to rally up some troops to help with the balcony mission, when Amy got frustrated, grabbed a boxcutter knife, and attacked. She cut the back leather panel off the couch, then returned for a hammer. Soon we were hammering out the inner framework, ripping off the leather, and otherwise causing havoc in the hallway.

But we did it. We smashed off the end pieces and most of the back piece, until it was small enough to fit in the elevator.

Bye, bye, couch.